


Made to be Broken

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-31
Updated: 2005-05-17
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 67,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Memory can be a fickle thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian snuffled as the light began to beat against his closed eyes. He didn’t want to be awake yet. His entire body felt heavy and leaden and all of his major muscle groups ached. Brian squeezed his eyes shut tighter, wanting the light to go away so that he could sleep longer. The only problem was that Brian knew he couldn’t sleep. He had a flight to catch at eight that would take him back to Pittsburgh.

With a great deal of effort he managed to roll onto his side. And found himself pressed face first into what felt like the back of a couch. That gave Brian pause. He shouldn’t have been lying on a couch. At least not one that was so squishy. The couch in his hotel suite was rather stiff and unused.

Cracking open a single eye, Brian found himself staring at a rather tacky couch.

“What the...,” Brian mumbled under his breath as he shifted onto his back.

“You’re awake.”

Brian swung his head to the right, in the direction of the voice, and instantly regretted the action as his vision began to spin and his head began to pound.

“Easy there,” the voice soothed. “You look pretty roughed up.”

“What happened?” Brian grumbled, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me that.”

Brian dared to open his eyes a second time and searched out the source of the voice. The person must have moved closer because he was sitting right next to him on the coffee table. The “he” in question was a striking blonde who looked slightly sleep rumpled, wearing only a pair of grey sweats and a white wifebeater. His hair was longer, a shaggy look that suited the other man.

“How are you feeling?” the blue-eyed man asked him, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs.

“Like shit,” Brian groaned as he attempted to sit up. Failing that, he remained slumped against the couch. “How did I get here?”

“I found you passed out on my porch when I got home from work last night,” he revealed.

Brian stared up at him in confusion, having no memory whatsoever of wandering into an area that had houses with porches. He hadn’t even left the downtown area the entire time he’d been in San Francisco. He also didn’t think that he’d drunk enough to make him so disoriented. His drugs were all at home so that was entirely out of the question too.

“My name’s Justin, by the way,” the blonde offered, sensing his confusion.

“Brian.”

“Nice to meet you, Brian,” Justin grinned, the smile lighting up his entire face. “Sorry that all I had to offer you was my couch, but you were too heavy to drag into the guest room.”

Brian’s eyes widened at that. It wasn’t often that he passed out so completely that he couldn’t be roused to stumble with support. His best friend Michael had turned it into an artform over all the years they’d known each other. Those instances had been few and farther in between since he had started seeing Ben Bruckner two years before. Despite how hard he had fought it, the gay studies professor had a very calming effect on him. Most shocking of all, for the past two months Brian hadn’t tricked a single time, something he’d never thought would happen before he reached his grave.

“I think I missed my flight back home,” Brian mumbled as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

When he turned back to Justin, the blonde looked incredibly confused. “You do realize that there’s no airport for like a hundred miles.”

Brian glared at him. “Ha fucking ha.”

“I’m serious,” Justin insisted earnestly. “You’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.”

“I’m in San Francisco,” Brian mumbled weakly. “That’s not the middle of bumfuck nowhere. It’s the gay mecca of the USA.”

“No, you’re in Oakville, New York. Upstate. Population six hundred,” Justin informed him sadly.

Brian shook his head in denial. There was no way he could possibly be in New York. There was no reason for him to be in New York when he had been clear on the other side of the country the night before.

“This isn’t happening,” Brian mumbled under his breath, desperately attempting to drive away the fear that he could feel creeping into his brain. “I can’t be here. I’m supposed to be in San Francisco getting ready to fly back home.”

From his expression, Brian could tell that Justin wanted to say something, but was smart enough to know that there was nothing that could be said. It was a wise thing too on the blonde’s part because Brian knew he’d end up biting the head off his benefactor with the least provocation. Instead, Brian sunk back into the cushions, wracking his brain trying to figure out what had happened the night before.

A loud rumbling from Justin’s stomach pulled him from his increasingly frustrating thoughts.

“Sorry,” Justin mumbled, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. “It’s been a while since dinner.”

Still noticeably flushed, Justin got up and rushed across in the direction of what Brian assumed was the kitchen. For his part, Brian remained on the couch. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he was in upstate New York. The only part of New York that he’d ever had any interest in was Manhattan. Recently, he and Ben had even started to talk about moving there. Not only were the several firms interested in recruiting him, but a few weeks before Ben had received a job offer from Columbia.

Before long, the small of frying bacon had Brian’s stomach growling in much the same way that Justin’s had been. For a few minutes Brian attempted to ignore his stomach’s demands for food. However, his stomach quickly won out and, with a great deal of effort, Brian heaved himself off the couch and shuffled towards the kitchen, using the smell of cooking bacon as a guide.

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Justin mused, not turning away from the stove. “I would have been in here at the first offer of food.”

“But you didn’t offer any food. You just disappeared,” Brian pointed out as he slumped into one of the miss-matched chairs that surrounded a small table.

Again, Justin’s ears flushed. “I meant to offer, but my manners tend to disappear first thing in the morning. Either that or they just wake up later than I do.... How do you like your eggs? Is scrambled okay?”

“Scrambled’s fine,” Brian assured the flustered blonde.

Brian was actually surprised by how calm he was. He was on the other side of the country from where he was supposed to be, sitting in the kitchen of a virtual stranger. The only upside was that said stranger was a gorgeous blonde with a killer ass who, if his instincts weren’t completely off, was as queer as they came.

As Brian shifted in his seat, he felt something move in the front pocket of his jeans. His cell phone. Reaching into the pocket, Brian pulled out the slim silver phone and examined it for any missed messages that might account for his new location.

There were no new messages. No missed calls.

“Hey, while you work on breakfast I’m going to call home to let them know I won’t be home as originally planned,” Brian announced, rising stiffly from the chair.

Justin glanced quickly over his shoulder, nodding. “Sure. Take as much time as you need.”

Nodding slightly, Brian made his way into the connecting hallway which was painted gold to the living room’s red and the kitchen’s rainbow paint job. He leaned against the wall as he dialed the number for Ben’s cell. Having seen the clock in the kitchen, Brian knew that it was just after nine so Ben would be in class, but he could at least leave a message.

“I’m sorry, but the number you are dialing is no longer in service....”

Brian stared at his phone for a few moments letting the message play over a few times. He knew that he hadn’t gotten the number wrong because it was programmed into his phone. Brian tried it three more times and each time he was told that Ben’s phone was no longer in service. The same happened with Mikey’s cell. At the loft there was no answer and the answering machine didn’t pick up. He could have tried the munchers or Deb’s, but he wasn’t up to the shock of finding out that he couldn’t get in touch with anyone else. Instead, Brian stumbled back into the kitchen, slumping in the chair and dropping his phone on the table.

“Did you get in touch with someone back home?” Justin inquired as he busily beat the eggs.

“I couldn’t.”

That got Justin to turn around, the bowl of eggs still in his hands. “What do you mean you couldn’t?”

“Just that,” Brian sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “My lover’s and my best friend’s cell phones went out of service somewhere between last night and today. I can’t even get my answering machine at home.”

“Okay.... That’s not right,” Justin mumbled as he moved to sit in the chair next to Brian. “Could it maybe be something to do with the phone lines where you’re from.... Where are you from?”

“Pittsburgh,” Brian sighed, allowing his hands to drop down. “And I have cross-country range so....”

“So something is definitely up,” Justin finished for him. “Maybe you could call the phone company and find out what’s going on.”

Brian shook his head morosely, slumping still further into the chair. “I’ll just try again later. Everyone’s at work now anyway.”

“I’m sure everything will work itself out,” Justin offered as he stood and moved back over to the stove. “For now, though, I’m going to feed you. Your mind might work better with some nourishment.”

Brian smirked at the younger man before turning in the chair so that he was facing the table and picked up his cell phone in both hands. He went through all of the features on it, searching for some clue as to what was going on. The clock was right, the were no missed calls, no new messages, his directory was untouched, his ringer was the same, font size, everything. There was no rational explanation for him not being able to get in touch Ben and Mikey.

“I come bearing food,” Justin announced, setting a plate down in front of Brian with a flourish.

Still incredibly uneasy about what was going on, Brian nonetheless enjoyed the meal Justin had cooked. He didn’t often treat himself to bacon and eggs but could think of no better reason to indulge himself than winding up on the other side of the country from where he should have been and unable to get contact his family. The only reason Brian knew he wasn’t having some sort of bizarre dream was because his entire body was aching. He felt as though he had gotten into a fight with the biggest, baddest bears from Meathook and got his ass thoroughly kicked.

“Maybe after breakfast I could drive you into town so that you could go to the bank and check out your credit card activity and maybe see how you ended up here,” Justin suggested.

Brian arched an eyebrow at the comment, his mouth full of eggs at the moment. “Not a bad idea,” he conceded after he’d swallowed.

Setting down his fork, Brian reached into his back pocket to get to his wallet. He immediately opened it and reached inside for his credit cards only to find out that none of them were there. He had cash, the same amount that he remembered being in there the night before, but his credit cards were all gone.

“Okay, this is really starting to piss me off,” Brian growled as he tossed his wallet onto the table. “What the fuck is going on?”

Justin could only shake his head in response.

Doing his utmost to remain calm, Brian went back to his breakfast. There was nothing he could do at the moment. All of his cards were theft protected so his money would be safe, it was just their location that was a mystery. One that he really didn’t like and wanted to end as soon as possible.

To give Justin credit, he tried to keep things light, a difficult task given Brian’s present state of mind.

“Do you mind if I grab a shower so that I can at least feel halfway descent?” Brian asked as they finished their breakfast.

“Yeah, sure,” Justin responded automatically. “It’s just down the hall to your left. There’s extra toothbrushes under the sink and feel free to use anything else in there.”

With a slight nod, Brian rose from his seat and began to make his way towards the bathroom. He may not have had a change of clothes, but at least he could be clean. Then he could find out what had happened with his credit cards and his cross-country journey then try to get in touch with Ben again.

Brian’s confirmation that Justin liked a lot of colours. Besides the living room, kitchen and hallway, Brian also passed by a purple room before finding the bathroom which was done in pale blues and greens for a much more calming effect that the other rooms and greatly helped to soothe Brian’s nerves.

As he went to stand in front of the mirror, Brian was startled by his appearance. His arms and chest were bulkier than they had been the night before or at any other point in his life. He was nowhere near the size of Ben, but noticeably different from his normal build. It also looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days even though he knew for a fact that he’d shaved the previous morning. Brian was also convinced that his hair was a shade or two darker than normal.

Brian’s greatest shock came when he slipped off his pants and immediately caught sight of a tattoo on his right hip. It was a series of nine numbers and letters, M4B 9A5 KL2, that meant absolutely nothing to him. There was also no way that he could have gotten the tattoo the night before because it was fully healed and starting to fade.

Slumping down onto the rim of the bathtub, Brian rested his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands as he began to shake. The last time Brian had felt so helpless was when he’d been a kid and been unable to fight back when his father went on a rampage. Brian refused to cry. He had trained himself at a young age to keep his weaknesses to himself and not let them show to anyone. He failed from time to time, but Brian wasn’t going to let that time be one of them.

Eventually Brian was able to quell his shudders and stepped into the bathtub and began fumbling with the faucets. Once he had the water to a hot enough temperature, he pulled the shower curtain closed and flipped the lever that transferred the flow of water to the showerhead. Brian stood under the spray, letting the water pour over his skin until it began to turn pink. Then he began scrubbing at his skin with a washcloth, rubbing himself raw, especially on his shoulders and hips. Brian would have stayed in there indefinitely if he hadn’t wanted to salvage some of the hot water for Justin.

Brian felt completely wrung out as he stood under the trickling water that continued to drip from the showerhead. He continued to shake slightly as he dried himself off and put his clothes back on. As he slowly began to put himself back together with the aid of a blow dryer, brush and some mousse, and by the time he’d shaved Brian felt more himself. The tattoo was hidden, his hair was a bit lighter after it had been washed and the more defined nature of his arms and shoulders was something that he could live with.

By the time he left the bathroom, the Brian Kinney facade was firmly back in place.

“You certainly look better,” Justin grinned from the couch as Brian entered the living room.

“Fell better too,” Brian confirmed, sharing that smile. “Is there any coffee left?”

“Yeah. Here, I’ll get--”

“I’ll get it,” Brian interrupted him, already moving towards the kitchen. “You want any?”

“No thanks. Feel free to finish it off. I’m going to grab a quick shower before we go,” Justin called after him.

Brian snatched his coffee cup off the table as he made his way to the counter. He paused halfway to the coffee maker, his eyes locked on the landscape outside the window.

He didn’t realize he’d dropped the ceramic cup until he heard the loud crashing noise.

Still, he didn’t react.

Then Justin was shouting his name and there were hands on his shoulders, turning him around and guiding him away from the wreckage. Brian wasn’t even aware that he was trembling until he felt Justin’s hands holding his face.

“Brian...? Brian, what’s wrong?” the smaller man demanded as he forced him to sit in a chair.

“It’s not July, is it?”

Justin’s eyes widened and he slowly shook his head. “No, it’s the end of November.”

Shoving his way past Justin, Brian barely made it to the sink before his stomach rid itself of what he’d eaten only a short time before. Even after he continued to heave up nothing as his stomach twisted itself into knots. When it finally stopped, Brian leaned his head against the edge of the counter as he attempted to wrap his mind around the fact that he’d lost the last four months of his life.

“Last night was July 16th,” Brian mumbled pathetically. “Today should be July 17th. There’s no way those four months can have just disappeared.”

Again Justin was silenced by Brian’s revelation. Stepping away from the counter, Brian stumbled back towards the chair he’d just abandoned and more or less collapsed into it as he tried to figure out if he could remember anything from those missing four months.

Justin, however, wasn’t letting him brood because he quickly said, “Come on. Let’s go to the bank and find out what’s been going on in your accounts. Maybe that will tell us what happened between July and now.”

Brian nodded his head mutely and pushed himself up from the chair. He knew that no good would come from his finding out what had happened in the months he was missing. The only positive he had was knowing why he couldn’t get a hold of Ben and Mikey.

The bad, however, far outweighed the good. For one thing he would have missed the birth of his son. His family probably thought that he was either dead or that he’d run out on his life. Brian knew exactly who would think what. There were so many other things such as the state of his loft, bank accounts and assets that were put into limbo depending on whether he was declared alive and missing or dead.

“I’m just gonna go throw on a pair of jeans and grab the coat my dad forgot here last winter,” Justin murmured as he guided Brian from the kitchen. “Your boots are by the door.”

Brian grunted an acknowledgment and made his way towards the front door where his Prada boots were. At least they were the same and didn’t look like he’d been wearing them daily for the past four months.

One of the main things Brian was avoiding thinking about was whether or not he had a place to live when he got back to the Pitts. He’d left it to Michael in his will, more as a source of income rather than as an actual place to live because he knew that Mikey would never be able to afford living there. The thought of some hapless fag living in his loft, fucking under his blue lights upset Brian a lot more than he wanted to think about.

If anything, Brian had the juvenile desire to simply go to sleep and wake up to discover that it was all just a dream. If he was lucky, he’d wake up to find himself on a plane somewhere over the Midwest on his way to JFK to catch his connecting flight home.

Snatching his boots up off the ground, Brian made his way over to the couch so that he could sit down while he put them on. There was a section of the newspaper sitting on the coffee table and Brian’s attention was drown by a picture of Arnold Schwartzenegger on the front page. Brian’s eyes widened when he saw that the action hero was the California governor. Always up to date on current events, Brian knew that he hadn’t heard anything about the actor even thinking about running for office. After scanning the article quickly, Brian glanced up to the date at the top of the page just to see how late in November it was.

And bolted back to the kitchen sink to heave up any traces of food that was still in his system.

Brian was shaking noticeably by the time he’d managed to calm his stomach. He sunk down to the ground, clutching at the edge of the counter and pressed his forehead against the wood cabinet. He knew that he needed to calm down. There was nothing he could do if he had a panic attack.

“Brian, I’ve got the... Brian?”

Justin’s voice only made the shaking increase. For all he knew, Justin was the reason he was in the current situation Brian immediately pushed that thought away. There was no way that Justin could do anything quite so devious. The blonde was just to open to hide any dark secrets or intentions.

“Brian!”

Seconds later, there were hands on him, turning him away from the counter. Brian started, and attempted to pull away, but very quickly gave in and allowed Justin to guide him around so that they were sitting side by side.

“Is it stupid if I ask if you’re all right?” Justin murmured, reaching over to the stove to yank off a dish towel which he used to wipe the sweat from Brian’s forehead.

“It hasn’t been four months that I can’t remember,” Brian mumbled, twisting his head towards Justin’s worried gaze.

Justin brightened momentarily. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Not when I have to add on three years to those four months.”


	2. Made to be Broken

It was the inherent vulnerability that he’d seen in Brian that had convinced him to take the older man into his house the night before rather than calling the police to deal with him. As an artist, Justin had spent a great deal of time studying the human form and its nature, and he could see that there was nothing malevolent about the unconscious man. So he had gone against this usual self-preserving nature and dragged Brian into his home.

Now, several hours later, he was seated next to Brian on his kitchen floor as the brunette quietly broke apart at the seams.

His instinctual reaction was to make some sympathetic comment, but kept the sentiment to himself. While there was a few days of his own past that he had lost, it was nothing compared to the three and a half years that were missing from Brian’s life. Three and a half years in which the other man had crossed the country against his will and without his knowledge.

Shuffling out of Brian’s arms, Justin helped the taller man to his feet and began to guide him to the guest room. He knew that Brian needed to piece himself back together before they could do any searching into the missing chunk of Brian’s past. Justin would give Brian that time and do some online research of his own. Most newspapers had some kind of online archive and he would hopefully find something about what had happened in San Francisco three years ago.

First, though, he had to get Brian into bed. It was a much easier task than it had been the night before because Brian was conscious if not completely coherent. In short order, he got Brian stretched out on the narrow twin bed and was removing his expensive boots. When he was drawing the comforter up over him, Justin was startled when Brian reached out and latched onto his arm.

“Stay please,” Brian murmured before rolling away from him.

Any decision Justin would have made were done for him as Brian maintained a hold on his arm, pulling it with him as he rolled over. Quickly kicking off his own shoes, Justin crawled in behind his frantic guest, embracing him from behind. Justin was further surprised when he felt Brian relax against him.

Before long, the only sound in the room was that of Brian’s slightly wheezing breaths.

The part that was the most startling of all was that Justin felt so comfortable with Brian. He was, after all, the living example of a reclusive artist. It would have been just as simple for him to be the typical starving artist in New York City. Justin knew that because for a time it had been his reality.

For nearly a year Justin had lived in a run-down apartment in Greenwich Village with his violinist lover. Ethan Gold had been the consummate starving artist, playing for change on street corners to pay the rent. The other teen had thrived on it, but for Justin the novelty had gotten old very fast. He didn’t like not knowing if they would have the money to pay that month’s rent or where his next meal was going to come from.

So he’d left. He’d sucked up his pride and gone back to his parents in Albany to plead for mercy. For them to take him in until he could save up enough to rent himself a descent apartment. The only stipulation from his father had been that he give up his “disgusting lifestyle” as long as he was living under their roof. It had killed him to do so, but in the end he’d had no choice.

Once he was sure that Brian was sleeping soundly, Justin attempted to free himself from the brunette’s hold. He failed miserably. All that he managed to accomplish was to wake Brian up just enough to roll over and grab hold of him more securely. Resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere, Justin sunk back down into the mattress so that he could possibly make up for some of the sleeping that he’d lost the night before.

“What the hell happened to you?” Justin murmured as he stared at Brian’s face.

As he’d expected, there was no answer. Even if he’d been conscious, Justin was sure that Brian wouldn’t have been able to tell him. Under normal circumstances, Justin would have never believed the story Brian was trying to feed him. It was completely unbelievable. A person didn’t just lose three and a half years of their life.

A short while later, Justin managed to extract himself from Brian’s arms without waking the other man. He wanted to be able to give Brian some kind of answer about what had happened to him when he woke up. Maybe he could at least find out what had happened the night of July 16th, 2000. There probably wasn't much he'd be able to find out given that he only knew Brian's first name, but he doubted that there were too many Brian's from Pittsburgh making the paper in San Francisco on a single day.

As Justin moved into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee while his computer booted up, he immediately noticed Brian's wallet still sitting on the table. He didn't want to pry, but he knew that he'd be able to find more information if he had Brian's full name.

"Brian Aiden Kinney," Justin said quietly as he stared at the other man's driver’s license. "Let's see if we can find out what happened to you."

Now that he had Brian's full name, Justin felt more confident about what he was planning to do. He may not have exactly been a computer whiz, but he could manage to track down information on a newspaper's archive. It was relatively easy given how many research papers he'd needed to write during high school.

He was just booting up the internet when his phone rang. Reacting instantly, Justin bolted for the cordless phone that he'd left sitting in the printer tray the night before. "Yeah. Hello. This is me."

"I know who would answer the phone, dingus," Daphne laughed from the other end. "You live alone so no one else would be answering your phone.... Or would they? Is there something you're note telling me?"

"Oh shit," Justin grumbled, slumping back down into the computer chair. "I can't, Daph. Something's come up."

"Is that so?" his best friend giggled. "And do I get to ask what came up?"

"No, you don't. You get to mind your own business," Justin smirked as he placed the phone between his cheek and shoulder so that he could free up both hands to type. "Look, Daph, it's really not that big a deal. I just won't be able to make it up to the city to visit you this weekend."

"Will I eventually get to find out what's going on in your neck of the woods?" Daphne pressed, doing her utmost to sound casual but failing miserably.

The two friends chatted briefly for a few more minutes while Justin attempted to navigate his way to the San Francisco Chronicle's online archive. As soon as he found the correct date, the article he was looking for was right in front of him. "Hey, Daph. I've gotta go now. Talk to you later."

PITTSBURGH AD EXEC DIES IN GUARDRAIL CRASH

"When twenty-nine year old Brian Kinney said good bye to his family before leaving on a business trip to San Francisco he didn't know it would be for the last time...."

Frowning, Justin scanned the entire article, trying to figure out how Brian could have died in a fiery explosion but still be sleeping soundly in his guest room. There was a picture of Brian dressed in a black tuxedo so Justin had no doubt that it was Brian who was being written about in the article.

"Look at it this way," Justin mumbled to himself, trying to find a bright side for when Brian woke up. "You're living every fags dream. You died young and beautiful. Before your thirtieth birthday no less."

Justin spent the next half hour reading a series of articles about the crash. He gasped out loud when he realized that Brian had a three year old child back in Pittsburgh. A three year old who had never met his or her father. After reading that, Justin knew there was no way he could even pretend to put a good spin on what had happened to Brian. The man had lost his life, his child and there was still no explanation as to why he was suddenly alive, three years later. Justin had once thought that his world had ended when he'd lost two weeks of his life due to coma, but that was nothing in comparison to what had happened to Brian.

As he printed off the articles, Justin scrubbed his fingers over his face, making fists in his hair. He had no idea how he was going to tell Brian about what he'd found out. He hadn't even really found out too much. Just that Brian had supposedly died three years before in a horrible car accident.

Justin left the articles in the printer tray and slowly made his way back to the guest room. He just wanted to look in on Brian, make sure he was sleeping all right. Justin could still remember the vivid nightmares he'd suffered just over two years back and wanted to make sure that Brian's sleep was better than his had been back there. It turned out that he didn't have anything to worry about because Brian was sleeping quite soundly when he peeked in on him. Brian was sprawled on his stomach, a pillow clutched under his head and chest as though he were holding an actual person. His right leg was drawn up slightly, toes poking out from under the comforter. Justin was relieved to see how relaxed Brian's features were. There were absolutely no signs of unease.

For several long minutes, Justin stood in the doorway watching over him. He'd been too tired to really examine Brian beyond establishing the fact that the brunette didn't appear to be a threat and now he had the opportunity to truly look at Brian. To map out in his mind Brian's exact features so that he could draw them later.

"Nuhhhh...." Brian groaned, curling in on himself. His features screwed up and it looked as though he were in pain. When a frightened gasp leaked past Brian's parted lips, Justin moved into action. He darted forward, crossing the space that separated them in little more than a second, kneeling down beside Brian and gently shaking his shoulder.

"Brian... Brian, hey," Justin murmured in the trembling man's ear as he continued to nudge at his shoulder.

Brian awoke with a start, rolling away from Brian and coming up on the other side of the bed without getting tangled in the sheets. The slender man stood gasping on the other side of the bed, holding his hands out in a defensive posture. It took several moments for him to come back to himself and Justin remained crouched on the floor the entire time. "Wha...?"

"Guess I should be more careful when I wake you up, huh?" Justin asked as he slowly stood up, the bed separating them. "You okay?"

It was almost imperceptible, but Brian's expression dropped once he became aware of where he was. With his right hand, Brian scrubbed at his neck and jaw while he nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm good. I think.... This morning really happened, didn't it?"

"'Fraid so," Justin mumbled, offering him a sympathetic smile.

Groaning, Brian slumped down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. Justin was unsure of what to do. He was tempted to pull Brian into an embrace from behind, but didn't that the older man would appreciate it at the moment. So instead he remained standing on the opposite side of the bed, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. He knew that he should tell Brian about what he'd found out, but wasn't sure how the other man would react to finding out that he wasn't simply missing and assumed dead, but was really dead as far as everyone that he knew was concerned. It wasn't a secret that he could keep from Brian for long, but Justin knew that he could hold off on telling him.

Brian let out a huge, shuddering sigh and unfolded himself from the bed. It looked as though it was a huge effort for him to straighten his body because each movement was slow and drawn out. Instead of turning around to face him, Brian trudged over to the window that over looked Justin's snowy backyard. Not wanting to intrude on whatever was going on in Brian's head, Justin remained where he was, debating whether or not to leave the room. He wanted to help, but wasn't sure if he would even be able to.

After a few minutes of absolute silence, Brian whirled around and was stalking out of the bedroom before the blonde could react. Not sure what was happening, Justin rushed after the older man who by that time was obviously heading towards the front door.

"Brian, what are you doing?" Justin demanded as he raced to catch up with the shoeless man. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find out what the fuck happened to me," Brian growled in response.

Justin rushed after Brian while attempting to pull on his own shoes, reducing his speed to a hopping scramble to ensure that he didn't end up going heels over head. "Brian, slow down! You don't have any shoes on! Brian!"

His breath was wasted because before he'd even finished the first sentence Brian was outside and bounding down the porch steps. Justin bolted out after him, grateful that he was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt under a dark blue sweater, it would keep him warmer than the thin white button down Brian had on.

"Brian!"

It was only Brian's hesitancy that allowed Justin to catch up with him. The ad exec had no idea where he was or where he was going whereas Justin knew the area well having lived there for just under a year. With a few quick strides, Justin reached Brian's side and latched onto his arm to slow his pace. When Brian continued to move forward, Justin slung his free arm around the taller man's waist and used all of his strength to stop him.

Brian stopped and stood shuddering in the walkway while Justin moved around to stand in front of him. He peered up at Brian's face, his jaw clenching when he saw the utter desolation in his eyes. Brian offered no resistance when he began to guide him back into the house and away from the prying eyes of his neighbours.

As soon as he got Brian inside, Justin immediately steered him over to the couch, snatching the afghan off the back of it. He forcibly sat Brian down and covered his shoulders with the afghan before kneeling down to remove his soaked socks.

"That wasn't the smartest thing you could have done," Justin murmured as he began to run his hands up and down Brian's arms, hoping to rub some heat into the limbs. "This is upstate New York and it's almost Thanksgiving, that means it's really cold."

"I feel like I'm losing my mind," Brian sighed, leaning back into the couch. "This can't be real. People just don't forget three years of their life."

Sliding onto the couch, Justin sat next to Brian, debating whether or not to tell him about the newspaper articles then. "Sometimes forgetting can be a good thing. It just means your mind is protecting you from something it knows that you can't cope with right now."

"Psych 101?" Brian snorted, glancing over at Brian with a twisted smile.

"102 actually," the artist countered as he nudged Brian's arm with his shoulder. "But it's true. There are some things you just aren't meant to remember."

"Oh yeah?" Brian smirked, arching an eyebrow. "Is this the voice of experience or textbook jargon?"

Justin let out a loud breath, slumping into the couch. "Very real experience. Blow to the head and I lost more than two weeks of my life. It's not as bad as what happened to you, but a part of me is glad that I don't remember what happened to me. I know what happened the same way I know the Roman Empire conquered most of Europe and that's only because someone told me."

Brian nodded his head slowly, rubbing his feet together in an attempt to generate some warmth. "What happened to you?"

"A bunch of fag-hating assholes decided that I needed to be erased from the face of the earth and cracked me over the head with a baseball bat," Justin said with a casual shrug.

"Unfuckingbelievable," Brian muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I prefer to look at it in a more positive light. If I hadn't been attacked there wouldn't have been civil trials against the assholes and I wouldn't have been awarded the money that bought this place," Justin said philosophically. "My art might not be what it once was, but I'm independent, something I hadn't been before."

Brian stared at the other man in shock, straightening himself up so that he could turn his upper body towards him. He then snorted and relaxed into the corner of the couch. "We're a pretty pathetic pair, you know that. A pair of fags with scrambled brains. Your story's worse, though."

"That's because you don't know yours yet," Justin sighed, forcing his body off the couch and making his way towards the computer desk where the print outs still were. He gathered them up in his hand and walked back over to the couch, holding them extended towards Brian. "I found this while you were sleeping. It doesn't explain the last there years, but it's a start."

For several long seconds, Brian stared at the half dozen sheets of paper that Justin was holding. He was extremely hesitant when he finally lifted hand to accept them, his fingers hovering an inch or so away from them before he finally closed his hand around it.

"Did you want some more coffee?" Justin asked, wanting to give Brian a few minutes alone so that he could read the articles in peace.

"Yeah, sure," Brian mumbled, his eyes riveted on the headline on the first piece of paper.

Justin offered him a lopsided smile before turning to go into the kitchen. He kept himself busy with minor tasks; making some coffee, loading the dishwasher, sorting through his mail, cleaning up the mess from breakfast. The entire time some of his attention was always on Brian, wanting to make sure that he didn't completely fall apart as he read about his supposed death.

Fifteen minutes later, when Justin had deemed it okay to go back into the living room, it was to see than Brian had finished reading as much of the printouts as he was able to. The papers were scattered across the floor between the couch and the coffee table and Brian was curled up on the couch, his legs drawn up to his chest and his face buried in his arms which were folded across the tops of his knees.

Not entirely sure what to do, Justin nonetheless crossed over to where Brian sat and slid his fingers into the brunette's hair, lightly massaging his scalp. Making sure that Brian knew he wasn't alone.


	3. Made to be Broken

It took Brian a while to notice that someone was running their fingers through his hair. Even longer to remember that they were Justin's fingers. Long, slender fingers that were proving to be incredibly strong and comforting. When he felt Justin's body lean against his, Brian relaxed against him and slowly turned his head to the side, meeting the blonde's worried gaze.

"Not bad for a guy who supposedly died in a fiery crash," he sighed, lifting a hand enough to scrub over his eyes. "You'd think I'd have some scars or something instead of just some fucking tattoo."

Justin pursed his lips and slid his hand down from the dark strands of hair to the back of his neck, massaging the base of his skull. "Maybe any scars are just faded and you didn't notice them."

"Trust me, I know my body. I would have noticed if I had any scars," Brian assured the younger man.

"Plastic surgery?"

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Brian turned his face back against his knees. None of his coping mechanisms were useless in his current situation. No matter how many guys he fucked or how much alcohol or drugs consumed the situation wouldn't go away. He still would have been missing the last three years of his life and his family would still think he was dead.... He didn't even know what his kid's name was.

"I have to go back to the Pitts," Brian mumbled into his denim clad knees. "I need to know what the fuck is going on there."

"I could check out more papers," Justin suggested. "Find out the Pittsburgh side of the story. They might have covered you more in there 'cause of the whole hometown boy thing."

"I don't think I could look at any more of that," he admitted, shaking his head slightly. He lifted his head back up, leaning back into the couch and tilting his head back as far as it would go. "I couldn't even get through the ones you already printed out. Right now, I'm supposedly a charred corpse. The firefighters pulled a charred version of me from the driver's side of my rental car.... But here I am. Right here. Not a scar on me."

"Were you with someone?" Justin frowned, shrugging slightly. "Maybe there was a mix up and everyone figured that since it was your car they figured it was you."

Brian tilted his head to the side enough so that he could roll his eyes in Justin's direction. "Even three years ago technology was far enough advanced to tell whether or not the charred body was me or some random trick which, by the way, I hadn't picked up that night. And, just for the record, I don't believe in that conspiracy theory bullshit."

"Well there goes my suggestion that the government recruited you to be some James Bond seduction agent and wiped your memory clean once you managed to bring down some foreign government," Justin deadpanned, his expression completely serious.

For a moment, Brian couldn't be sure whether Justin was being serious or not he'd been so convincing. It was a mischievous glint in Justin's eyes that gave it away. Brian was glad for the relief in tension and allowed the corners of his lips to turn up slightly.

"Of course, you would make a pretty gorgeous secret agent," Justin continued, grinning over at Brian. "All sleek and sexy in a black tux-- all black, shirt included --your hair beautifully rumpled, sleepy bedroom eyes.... There isn't a person on their earth who could say no to you."

"Even you?"

The tips of Justin's ears turned bright red and he ducked his head down. "For the sake of argument, let's just pretend that I'm a eunuch until this conversation is over."

"A eunuch?"

Justin gave him a pointed glare which was ruined by the slight smile curving his lips. "All I'm saying is not to count anything out until we find out everything we can about what happened to you. At this point, you don't know what happened. You could have been some secret agent or you could have been locked up in a padded room thinking you were Spongebob Squarepants."

"What the fuck is a Spongebob Squarepants?" Brian demanded, unfolding himself for the first time since he'd finished reading the articles.

"Something I'm sure you'll find all about when you meet your kid," Justin offered, smiling brightly.

Once again, Brian felt himself retreating. He was beginning to doubt whether or not he could go back to face his family after being away so long. It would be one thing if his three and a half year absence had been planned or if he'd at least kept in touch while he was gone. Even then Deb still would have bitched him out for staying away so long. It wouldn't matter to any of them what he'd been through in the past three years, he would still be the one in the wrong for making them think he was dead. He could have been to hell and back and still they would have accused him of running out on his kid.

"I have to go back," Brian said interrupting a silence that was beginning to stretch out. "As much as I would just like to hide away, I need to go back and face my family."

Justin nodded his head emphatically.”Yeah. Sure. I totally get that. I would just wait until tomorrow. I had the news on while you were in the shower and I guess there's supposed to be a bad storm starting up in the area near the airport soon and will be here by midafternoon. We still would have been able to manage a trip into town, but with everything else that's going on I don't think you want to get stranded at the side of the road halfway to the airport."

He didn't want to admit that Justin was right, that he would have to wait, but there was no avoiding it. He would have to stay in Justin's home, mooch off someone he didn't know and just generally be a burden. That was something Brian hated. He didn't like having to depend on others, but with the grand total of twenty dollars in his wallet he didn't have a choice. He wouldn't even be able to get back to the Pitts unless Justin was willing to help him.

"Look, I know that you're probably not too fond of having to depend on someone else," Justin said quietly a few minutes later, "but I found out a long time ago that a man needs to know when to ask for help."

"Okay, you need to stop doing that," Brian grumbled, scrubbing his hands over his eyes.

"Doing what?"

Turning his head to the side slightly, Brian peered at Justin from under his hands. "Reading my mind. It's kinda nerve wracking."

"Sorry?" Justin offered, shrugging slightly. "I really don't mean to."

"S'okay," Brian mumbled, slumping deeper into the couch.

Even though he still had his hands covering his eyes, he could tell that Justin was moving around when the cushions began to shift to his right, where the blonde was sitting. Then his hands were being dragged down from his face and Justin leaned over so that he could massage his temples. Justin's fingers were incredibly strong but, at the same time, also very gentle as he soothed his temples.

"Just relax, Brian," Justin murmured as his fingers began to slide back into his hair. "Soon you'll find out what happened to you and it'll be over."

"Wish it was that simple," Brian sighed, turning into Justin's touch. "You don't know my family."

Justin offered him an off-kilter smile and shrugged his shoulders slightly as he brought his hands down to rest on his lap. "Well, if it was me, I'd be glad to find out that you weren't dead. I probably wouldn't even let you out of my sight for a very long time."

"You're not the one enjoying a one million dollar life insurance policy," Brian snorted.

"A one million dollar life insurance policy?" Justin choked out, staring at Brian with wide eyes.

Brian nodded his head. "The munchers insisted on it about a week before I left for San Francisco. They wanted my kid to be taken care of in case anything happened to me."

"I hope they all have the same policies out for themselves," Justin said, his voice tinged with an odd edge. "It's only fair."

"Not to my knowledge," Brian shrugged.

"That's just fucked," Justin declared, that edge to his voice turning into anger. "The kid's mom should have at least had the same policy."

Brian didn't say anything, hoping that Justin would drop the subject if he kept quiet. He didn't want to think about things like that, or anything at all really. The only thing he really wanted was to wake up and find that it had all been a dream.

"Come on, you need to be distracted," Justin declared, rising up from the couch and reaching a hand back towards Brian.

Brian arched an eyebrow as he allowed his fingers to slip through Justin's. "And just what do you have in mind?"

Justin used that hold to tug Brian to his feet and as he opened his mouth, Brian swooped down and covered the blonde's mouth with his own. Brian needed something real, something to hold onto, even if it was only for a little while. At first, Justin didn't respond. He stood stalk still until slowly his lips began to move under Brian's. Then Justin's hands came up to hold his face as Brian's own hands grabbed at the smaller man's hips, pulling him closer. 

Justin was real. Justin was solid and real and _there_.

Brian backed Justin up towards the couch, easing the blonde down onto it and crawling on top of him so that he was stretched over top of a man that he barely knew, but had probably saved his life. He could feel Justin trembling beneath him and started to pull back, not wanting to force the blonde into something he didn't want to do. He started to pull back, instantly contrite, but Justin latched onto his hips, holding him in place.

"It's okay, just... just take it easy. It's been a while," Justin murmured, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Brian assured him, resting his weight on his left elbow while he reached up with his right hand to smooth Justin's longer bangs away from his face. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my needs. I wasn't a teenager that long ago."

A sudden grin appeared on Justin's face and he slipped his fingertips under the edge of Brian's shirt. Though it went against every single one of his rules, Brian let Justin take the lead. He allowed the smaller man to proceed at his own speed and didn't protest when he found himself on his back with Justin straddling his thighs.

One by one, Justin began to slowly unbutton Brian's shirt, exploring each newly exposed inch before moving on to the next. For a while, Justin's main focus of attention was Brian's navel. He returned to it, running his fingers around then dipping into it each time before continuing on to reveal a new area of skin. That changed when Justin reached the last button and Brian's nipples were exposed. Justin teased the nubs with his fingertips, coaxing them into hardness and then furthering tormenting Brian when he leaned forward to flick the tip of his tongue.

"Are you sure you haven't done this in a while?" Brian groaned, arching up towards Justin's mouth.

Justin placed a kiss around his right nipple then glanced up with a falsely innocent smile on his face. "Just because I haven't had a partner for a while doesn't mean I don't remember what feels good when someone else did it to me."

So Brian submitted himself to Justin's own brand of torture, losing himself in sensations as the blonde proceeded to explore every inch of his chest, arms, throat, hands and face. For quite a while his jeans had been uncomfortable, but was strangely content to allow Justin continue his explorations. Brian shoved aside his mind's attempts to rationalize his reasoning for letting Justin assume control of the encounter, instead choosing to enjoy it which was really no hardship at all.

Brian had to bite his tongue to keep from vocalizing his protest when Justin raised himself up on his knees. Even so, he wasn't able to prevent his hips from arching up in search of contact.

"Flip over, I want to see your back," Justin instructed as he rubbed Brian's stomach soothingly.

Brian arched an eyebrow up at the blonde.

"I'm an artist, I want to see all of you," Justin defended himself, tapping his fingers against the skin of Brian's hips just above his jeans. "I can't make a proper portrait of you once you're gone if I can't see all of you."

Giving Justin one more dramatic eye roll, Brian nonetheless rolled over onto his front, being careful not to dislodge Justin in the process. "Do what you will, Blondie."

There was no movement from Justin, though. The smaller man remained still above him, the only contact between the two of them Justin's knees against his thighs. Then slowly, tentatively, Brian felt Justin run a single finger along his back, following an odd path that went from his left armpit, weaved a wide path across his back to near his right hip.

"What's going on?" Brian asked, twisting his upper body so that he could see Justin's face.

Justin's eyes remained on his back for a few moments before meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't stare. In fact, I know I shouldn't stare. This is me not staring."

"Staring at what?" Brian demanded, craning his neck back even further to try and see what Justin was looking at. "There should be nothing there except my back."

"Um.... You didn't look at your back, did you? When you were in the bathroom?" Justin murmured as he slid off the couch to sit on the coffee table.

Brian was on his feet and bolting towards the bathroom with long strides. Justin trailed after him only a few steps behind him, his hand occasionally reaching out to brush against his back. From the way Justin had run his fingers across his back, Brian had a sinking suspicion that he knew what was there, he just didn't know how severe it was.

In the bathroom, Justin stood hovering in the doorway while he twisted around to see what was on his back. Now that he was looking, Brian saw it instantly and was quite shocked that he hadn't seen it before. Or that he hadn't felt any of the long puckered line when he'd been washing his back earlier. The fading white line ran from the left side of his back to his right, following the same path Justin had traced with his fingertip.

"It's really not that bad," Justin offered, moving forward to place a hand on Brian's upper arm.

"But it wasn't there before," Brian insisted as he turned his head away from the mirror. "I know what scars I have and that wasn't one of them."

Justin allowed his hand to drop to his side momentarily before bringing it up to scratch at the bridge of his nose. "I know that there's nothing I can say to make this better...."

Letting out a frustrated growl, Brian leaned back against the counter and covered his face with his hands. "This is really starting to piss me off. I've got tattoos and scars that I don't remember.... Hell, I can't remember anything between now and three years ago," Brian ground out as he slid his hands back to clutch at his hair. "Either I should be dead or not, but all this missing time is just fucked up."

"Then we will find out what happened during all that missing time," Justin promised him as he went to stand in front of Brian. "There's got to be some kind of record somewhere of what you've been doing--"

"Unless I just disappeared off the face of the earth," Brian grumbled morosely.

"The only way that would have happened is if aliens kidnapped you so that they could clone you to make a whole species of Brian Kinneys."

Despite himself, Brian felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That universe would be so lucky."

"Okay, new plan of action," Justin informed him, slipping a finger through Brian's belt loop and pulling him from the bathroom. "You are going to go on my computer and find out whatever you can about your bank accounts or whatever. I have my laptop with a wireless Net connection so I can see if there's anything else in the newspapers about what happened. Oh, and I can book flights back to-- was it Pittsburgh? --for tomorrow or whenever the soonest flight is."

Brian stopped in his tracks, latching onto Justin's wrist that was holding his belt loop. "That sounded plural. Shouldn't it be 'flight' in the singular?"

"If I had any intentions of letting you go back there by yourself maybe."

"I don't need a babysitter," Brian informed him, managing a half-hearted glare.

"And I wouldn't be going in babysitter capacity," Justin was quick to assure him. "I'd be going in concerned citizen capacity if nothing else."

Brian arched an eyebrow as he peered down into Justin's brilliant blue eyes. "You don't know me. I could be some psychotic freak who's planning on killing you once I figure out where you keep your money."

"And if I believed that for one second I wouldn't be volunteering to help you," Justin declared as he moved around Brian and continued on towards the kitchen. "And I certainly wouldn't have brought you in off the porch. I would have left you out there to freeze in the snow."

"No you wouldn't have," Brian contradicted him, shaking his head slightly.

Justin let out a loud bark of laughter, but continued on towards the kitchen. "You don't know me. I could be the reason you don't have any memory of the last three and a half years."

Brian didn't believe Justin's offhand remark for one second. The blonde didn't have it in him to be the least bit vicious or underhanded and he was far too open to be deceitful. Brian wasn't sure where this knowledge came from, but he'd be more likely to believe that Mikey was a serial killer than Justin had had a hand in wiping his memory.

"I'm just going to grab my laptop from the sunroom. The computer's already booted up," Justin explained as he weaved his way around the kitchen table on his way to a door on the far side of the room. "Do you want something to eat? I think I'm going to grab some munchies."

"No thanks," Brian mumbled, maneuvering himself into the large, overstuffed chair that served as Justin's desk chair. "That monster breakfast will keep me full for a long time."

It wasn't long before Brian became frustrated with his inability to log into his online accounts. His passwords either didn't seem to work or he was informed in bold red font that his accounts were no longer active. The only things that he could successfully gain access to were his stock portfolio and even that wasn't entirely comforting.

"Hey, Brian, when was your kid due?" Justin called from where he was over on the couch.

Brian turned around nervously, worried by the question. "Early September, why?"

"Because there was a Gus Aiden Kinney born the day after you supposedly died," Justin responded solemnly. "There's his birth announcement here and the mother is listed as Lindsay Peterson... unless Melanie Marcus is the mother. It's not too clear."

"Lindz is his mom," Brian whispered, slumping into the plush chair. "She's a friend from college who wanted to have a kid. She asked me to be the father and since I was drunk at the time.... Is Gus okay? There's nothing wrong with him?"

Justin peered at the screen of his laptop for a moment, shaking his head while he was reading the birth announcement. "Um.... Gus was born six weeks early, but is healthy and thriving if a little on the small side.... His mothers are both overjoyed at his safe arrival which unfortunately followed on the heels of his father's sudden death...."

"It must have killed Melanie to let Lindz name their kid after me," Brian snorted, trying for mirth even though he was strangely upset about the idea of missing his own son's birth. He hadn't even wanted to be a father the entire time Lindsay was pregnant. "I think she said something about wanting to name him Abraham once."

"It's a good thing Lindsay won because the kid wouldn't have survived a day at school being named Abraham," Justin said as he heaved himself up off he couch with one hand while he held onto his laptop with the other. He carried the portable computer over to where Brian was sitting, fumbling with the touch pad on the way. "Here. There's a website set up for out of town family members that still works."

As he straightened the screen so that he could properly see the image, Brian found himself staring at an image of his son's sleeping face. Before he could stop himself, he reached a finger out to trace Gus' chubby cheek.


	4. Made to be Broken

Since seeing the picture of his son, Brian had become even more solemn, something Justin hadn't thought possible. He'd taken possession of the laptop and moved back into the guest bedroom where Justin assumed he wanted some peace. Justin let him be, knowing full well that the older man needed time to wrap his mind around everything.

While Brian was secluded in the bedroom, Justin finished up his research into what had happened on that July evening three years before. In the end, there really wasn't much to tell about the accident that had supposedly killed Brian Kinney.

Around ten o'clock Brian left a business dinner with the owner and top executives of Vanguard Advertising, attempting to woo a partnership between the San Francisco agency and the Pittsburgh based Ryder Agency of which he was a newly made junior partner.

He was next seen forty-five minutes later at Barbossa, a gay dance club, which he left, alone, just after midnight.

Ten minutes later, at twelve twenty-three, his rental car swerved across two lanes of traffic and into the guard rail. It bounced off the guard rail, back into traffic, where it was hit by two other cars before slamming back into already mangled guard rail. A leak in the gas tank and a shorting fuel pump wire ignited a massive fire that consumed the entire vehicle.

Including Brian who had been trapped inside, unconscious.

Dental records had identified the corpse, but what had convinced his family in Pittsburgh was a police officer finding a slightly charred cowry shell bracelet about ten yards from the car.

Barely twenty four hours after the freak accident, Brian's son Gus was born more than a month premature.

The only thing that had never been figured out was why Brian had swerved across the two lanes of traffic and into the guard rail in the first place. His hacking abilities being less than stellar, Justin knew that there was a very good chance that the real reason behind the accident was a known fact but that it had never been made public knowledge.

Justin printed out every bit of information he could find so that Brian could read it all when he felt he was ready to deal with it. It was something that was going to have to happen eventually whether Brian wanted it to or not. All things considered, the accident would be the easiest part of it. The accident was a recorded fact, something that had actually happened, even if Brian's survival of it was something of a mystery.

Since there was nothing else he could do at the moment, Justin decided to go into the sunroom to work on his art. He taped a note to the wall opposite the door to the guest room so that Brian would see it when he came out then made his way to the brightly lit room at the back of the house that he had turned into a studio. The gallery in town was expecting another few paintings from him soon and he'd been unable to finish anything he'd started lately. In his opinion it was all horrible, nothing that was ever going to leave his studio.

After everything that had happened that morning, Justin was suddenly feeling quite inspired.

Shedding his sweater and tee, Justin searched out a blank canvas and his darker paints. Browns, reds, blacks and greys, with a few fleshy tones to lighten things up to help him create an image of the tortured man who was hidden away in his guest room. Staring with an image of Brian in the center, Justin painted him in full, barefoot and dressed in jeans. Very simplistic, but with the statuesque quality of an ancient Roman sculpture that Brian's sleek and slender body demanded. All around it was decay. Things crumbling and falling apart.

Or at least that had been his intention. Before Justin had a chance to start on what was going to fill in the blanks behind Brian, he could hear the other man moving around. Grabbing a rag to wipe off his hands, Justin moved out of the sunroom in time to intercept Brian as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey," Justin offered as he continued to scrub the paint from his hands.

Brian mumbled something Justin couldn't hear as he slumped down on one of the kitchen chairs. Once seated, he began to scrub his hands over his face before raising his troubled hazel eyes to meet Justin's. "Look, if you want to bail on this whole situation I won't hold it against you. This is too fucked up even for me to believe and I have a pretty vivid imagination."

"I'm an artist," Justin countered with a broad grin. "I have a very vivid imagination too so I'm willing to go on a little faith."

Justin made to move past Brian so that he could toss the rag in the sink for the time being, but was stopped by a finger sliding through one of his belt loops. He stopped in his tracks and glanced down at Brian who was looking up at him somewhat uncertainly.

"Look, in case I don't say it later--"

"Don't worry about it," Justin cut him off, sensing how hard it was for Brian to say even as much as he had. "It's not like I work a normal nine to five job so you won't put me out any. Besides I've always wanted to go to Pittsburgh."

"You do realize that the steel workers aren't as hot as porn makes them out to be," Brian deadpanned, arching an eyebrow.

The blonde rolled his eyes and made to swat at Brian only to have his wrist caught in midair. His eyebrow arched further when he saw the tattoo just below Justin's right elbow. It was a Celtic thing, a circular knot work pattern that had four angled points sticking out like miniscule points of a cross.

"Never would have pictured you as the tattooed type," Brian mused as he released Justin's arm. "Back to the matter at hand, why are you so set on going to Pittsburgh?"

"I was born there for one thing," was Justin's immediate response.

Brian glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Justin returned the glare without saying anything. He crossed his own arms over his chest, moving them about in an attempt to hide his less than toned chest. He was far from flabby, but under Brian's intense scrutiny he felt less than adequate. Then he realized just how completely idiotic it was for him to be feeling defensive in his own house and dropped his arms back down to his sides.

"You might as well face facts, Brian, I'm going with you to Pittsburgh," Justin informed the seated man. With a quick jerk of his eyebrows, Justin retrieved his t-shirt and sweater from the stool near the sunroom door where he'd left it. "And since the snow's finally starting to set in, you might as well relax because it'll be impossible to go anywhere till it's let up."

That earned him a glare from Brian, but Justin ignored it. He knew that Brian would only resent it if he tried to be overly sympathetic so he didn't.

"So what were you doing that required you being half naked?" Brian asked as he relaxed in the chair. "Anything interesting?"

"Making my living," Justin smirked, still fidgeting with his hair that had been mussed up when he put his sweater on. "The gallery that shows my work wants some more paintings in a few weeks so I was working on that."

"Which explains the multi-coloured rooms I keep encountering," Brian mused, tilting his head to the side slightly. "So how much of the artwork hanging around is yours?"

"Pretty much all of it," Justin informed him. "Some of it is copies of other things I've done, but other than that they're all mine."

Brian gave a slight nod, the eyebrow arch a sign of approval. "You're pretty accomplished for someone so young. You go to art school?"

"I took some visual arts classes at Ithaca, but no degree," Justin admitted with a reluctant grin. He backed up a few paces and hopped up on the counter. "After what happened my right hand got fucked up and I couldn't keep up with the classes so I dropped out and just never got around to going back. But, my work sells, so it's all good."

Brian continued to nod absently then rose from his seat and crossed over to where Justin was perched on the counter. He pressed his fists down on either side of Justin's hips, blocking any possible attempts Justin would make at moving. Justin straightened his shoulders and met Brian's gaze head on. Brian was silent for a few minutes, staring at the blonde intently before he stepped back and moved towards the living room.

Hesitating for a moment, Justin slid off the counter and followed after Brian. He wasn't too sure what the older man was up to and wanted to make sure that Brian didn't try to disappear in the middle of a snowstorm. To his surprise, he found Brian standing in front of one of his paintings that hung to the right of his desk. It was very simple, just the silhouette of a few twisted and broken beams with some shafts of bluish light streaking down into the tangled mess.

"So how much did I miss in the past three and a half years?"

That was a request Justin had never thought he'd face. It wasn't that he wasn't up to date on major events of the past three years, but rather he wasn't sure how to cut it down to a reasonable summary. Brian had missed out on some very big events between July 2000 and the present and it was up to Justin to give him a basic rundown of it all. Starting with the laughable presidential election in the fall of 2000, Justin did his best to bring Brian up to speed on the state of affairs in the US.

He kept his eyes focused on Brian as he spoke, tracking his movements as he paced about the living room, picking up and discarding numerous objects. For the most part, Brian remained silent, taking it all in. There was no mistaking Brian's disbelief at hearing about the 9/11 attacks as anything but genuine. He'd slumped down on the couch at that and stayed there for several long minutes before he once again returned to his pacing.

In the end, it took Justin little over an hour to relate all of the information he found relevant. If there was anything Brian wanted clarified, Justin knew the other man would ask questions. The only thing that Brian did was slump down on the couch, his lips sucked in between his teeth as he processed all of the information he'd just been handed.

Justin pushed himself off the other side of the couch, intending to go into the kitchen to get started on dinner. Not sure what Brian's eating habits had been as of late, Justin wanted to make sure that the older man at least at well for the time being. Skinny as it was, Brian could stand to gain a few pounds.

He didn't get very far, though, because as soon as he passed in front of Brian the brunette latched onto his arm. Justin turned his upper body as he looked down into the upturned hazel eyes, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"You don't have to do this," Brian insisted as he allowed his hand to drop back down to his side. To Justin, the other man looked incredibly small and vulnerable as he slouched back into the plump cushions. Like a child.

"There's no 'have to' involved," Justin assured him as he sat down on the coffee table directly in front of Brian. "I'm doing this of my own free will. That's not going to change no matter how many times you try to convince me otherwise."

With an exasperated sigh, Brian raised a hand to card through his hair, making a fist as he reached the back of his skull and pull slightly on the rumpled locks. "You are entirely too well meaning for your own good. It's going to get you in trouble one of these days."

"But not today," Justin grinned as he bounded off the coffee table in a single movement.

Brian was much slower, unfolding himself from the couch with long, drawn out movements that stirred things in Justin that hadn't been stirred for quite some time. Brian was a beautiful man, there was no denying that fact. Even with the scar that bisected his back diagonally, the graceful lines of his torso maintained their wonderful fluidity that called out to be molded in clay or chiseled in marble. Since he no longer had the strength in his right hand to pursue either medium, Justin would have to sate his artistic desires in charcoals and paints.

"You still haven't told me why you're so dead set on traipsing off to the Pitts with me," Brian reminded the artist as they entered the kitchen. "And don't think for one moment that I'm buying your nostalgic reason."

Justin pursed his lips at that. Even he wasn't so sure why he'd decided to go to Pittsburgh with Brian. It would have been easy enough for him to simply buy Brian a single ticket and wait for the check in the mail that was Brian paying him back for said ticket. That was what most people would have done. Rational people. Of course Justin had never been accused of excessive amounts of rationality. Quite the opposite, really.

Bobbing his head from side to side, Justin refused to meet Brian's eyes. "I'd just feel better if I went to Pittsburgh with you, okay? You don't have easy access to cash and if something happens you'll be stranded...."

Brian smiled at him fondly, reaching up to card his fingers through the hair at the nape of Justin's neck, fingers playing with the blonde strands. "Leave it to me to end up passed out on the porch of the world's greatest good will embassador."

It didn't take Justin very long to discover just how inadept Brian was at cooking. Breaded chicken was the more difficult part of the meal he'd had planned so he dealt with that, assuming that Brian would be able to handle the egg noodles. That had been a huge mistake and was the reason they ended up having chicken caesar salad instead of alfredo chicken he'd been planning.

"You don't cook much, do you?" Justin teased as he sliced up the chicken. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Brian attempting to unstuck the pasta from the pot.

"I live alone and work long hours," Brian defended himself, making a face as a glob of pasta came out at once. "The only time I ever had a home cooked meal was when I would go to my surrogate mom's house on Sundays."

Justin shook his head in disbelief. "In that case, how about we leave the cooking to me for the rest of the time you're stranded here? Sound good to you?"

There was a shot of panic in Brian's eyes that caught Justin by surprise. "'Rest of the time?' How long is this storm supposed to last?"

Glancing out the window to his right, Justin stared out at the storm that was still swirling around in all its fury. "It should let up some time tomorrow. After that we just have to wait for the snow plows to get out here and clear the roads.... So, day after tomorrow at the latest."

Brian pursed his lips and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've been gone for over three years, another few days won't make much of a difference, right?"

Even as the brunette tilted his head away, Justin could see the emotions he was attempting to hide. Justin knew that Brian didn't want to wait to get back to Pittsburgh. He didn't blame him either because Justin knew that he would be nowhere near as calm if he was the one stranded far from home. Leaving the chicken, Justin wiped his hands off on a towel and moved to stand in front of Brian, waiting for the other man to raise his head so their eyes met.

"If I thought it was actually possible for us to get to the airport or even to the end of the street I'd drive you there myself right now," Justin insisted, placing a hand on Brian's elbow. "But that's not going to happen right now which means waiting. Hopefully that won't be too much of a hardship."

"I think I can survive," Brian smirked, glancing sideways at the counter rather than at Justin.

"Good. Now, dinner's ready. Grab you're plate and we'll eat," Justin instructed as he moved back over to where he'd been preparing the food so that he could place the breaded chicken strips over top of the salad before handing Brian his plate. As he was about to go sit down himself, a sudden thought occurred to Justin and he thrust his plate at the older man. "Hold this!"

Brian fumbled to keep both plates from dropping to the ground, glaring down at Justin. "What the...? Careful, will you."

Ignoring Brian's startled outburst, Justin scurried out of the kitchen and back into the living room where he kept the alcohol in an old antique hutch. Shuffling through the various bottles for a bottle of wine, Justin's fingers came across a bottle of zinfandel which he brought back into the kitchen with him. He brandished it in front of him when he caught Brian's eye and took it over to the counter so that he could open it.

"My mother taught me that you're supposed to serve wine with dinner when you have guests," Justin explained while he riffled through the drawer in search of his corkscrew. "So I'm serving wine with dinner. You like zinfandel, right? I have other stuff if you don't."

"Zinfandel will do just fine," Brian assured him, amusement tingeing his voice.

So did the bottle of Merlot and the bottle of Jim Beam that they cracked open after that. All the alcohol made both men a tad giggly and Justin somehow managed to convince Brian that it was a good idea to watch Yellow Submarine which the blonde was discovering was much funnier when he was well on his way to being drunk.

"We all live in a yellow submarine. Yellow submarine. Yellow submarine," Brian sang off key as he raised the bottle of Beam they were sharing to his lips.

Justin was giggling madly and swiped said bottle from Brian's hands. "That's the wrong song. This is Eleanor Rigby. See. He just said her name."

Brian tipped a head in his direction before swiveling it back around to the screen. "But I don't know the words to that one."

"It's about lonely people," Justin informed him solemnly, raising the bottle towards the screen in silent solute.

At that, Brian slumped even further into the couch than they were already imbedded. His head dropped down onto Justin's shoulder and he reached across the blonde's body for the bottle of whiskey. He missed and ended up with his arm draped across Justin's waist, a position that neither man seemed to be in much of a hurry to remedy.

"It's very lonely when everyone thinks your dead," Brian sighed into Justin's shoulder. He must have decided that he didn't like the slightly prickly feel of the wool and moved his head up so that it was just his chin that was resting on Justin's shoulder.

"Not everyone thinks your dead. I know you're not dead. I have very firm proof of that fact," Justin assured him, turning his head to the side so that he could meet Brian's eyes. He ended up bumping his nose against Brian's so he angled his head forward again. "They'll find out your alive soon enough and then everything will be all right for you again."

"You're very optimistic, did you know that?"

Justin shuddered as he felt Brian's warm breath puffing against the side of his face. When Brian's forehead dropped against his temple that shudder turned into a tingling sensation that seemed to be focused in his lap. Justin wasn't too surprised, in fact he'd rather expected something like that. Brian was a very attractive man and from the moment he'd found him passed out on his front porch Justin had found himself drawn to him.

The lips brushing over the corner of his jaw informed him that Brian was thinking the same thing.


	5. Made to be Broken

His pillow was strangely lumpy. It was also moving with a regular rhythm that definitely wasn't normal. Brian slowly blinked his eyes open and was surprised to see himself staring at the side of Justin's couch. Then he moved his head slightly and realized that his pillow was Justin's stomach. Brian considered moving away for all of two seconds before simply bracketing Justin's body with his arms and relaxing into the slighter form. As long as Justin was nearby he felt connected to the world and not trapped in a nightmare.

Roughly twenty-four hours had passed since he'd discovered that he was missing three years of his life and Brian still had no clue what he was going to do beyond returning to Pittsburgh. Looking at things realistically only made Brian worry more. There was a certificate out there saying that he was dead which meant that everything he'd worked so hard for had been given to other people. His loft, everything in the loft, his jeep, his stocks and his back accounts had been spread around among his family and after three years there was no telling just how much of his original estate remained. Brian didn't even know if he'd be able to get any of things back. The money was what concerned Brian most of all because he would need it to buy a new place, new clothes. He'd need it even more if it proved that he didn't have a job any longer despite the fact that he'd been named a partner not long before his "death."

The body under him shifted and Brian remained perfectly still, not wanting Justin to wake up. He didn't much want to be awake himself for that matter.

_White hot agony flared across his back. So sharp and so sudden that it forced the air from his lungs in a single breath. As he toppled to his knees, he swiveled his upper body, screaming at the pain, but desperate to see its source._

_"Lights out, Kinney."_

That time Brian awoke with a start, his body shuddering as he panted into Justin's stomach. It took him a few moments to realize that Justin's arms were around him, clutching at him desperately as Brian struggled from his dream.

"Breathe, Brian. Breathe," Justin murmured as he pulled Brian up his body. "You're awake now, just breathe."

With one last frustrated scream, this time muffled by Justin's shoulder, Brian relaxed against the blonde with only the occasional shudder rocking his body. After a few seconds, though, Brian felt like crawling out of his skin. There was some niggling of a memory in the back of his brain. Something that he couldn't quite get at, but taunted him nonetheless. He twisted his body, the scar on his back feeling tight and constricted.

Slowly, though, the feel of Justin's hands smoothing over his back, seemingly ignoring the scar which was hidden beneath his wifebeater. Apparently sometime during the night he'd shed his button-down shirt. Chances were it was around the same time Justin had decided that he could do without his sweater.

"I've been trying to decide for the past half hour whether it's my back or my head that hurts the most," Justin mused after a few minutes of silence. "My back has that whole dull ache thing going on while my head is thumping to quite an interesting tune."

Immediately Brian heaved himself up on his elbows, his mind processing for the first time that the two of them were lying on the hard ground. "Shit. Why didn't you wake me up?" With a few more surprisingly graceful movements, Brian was balancing on the balls of his feet, his body crouched next to Justin's.

"Because I figured you could use the sleep," Justin answered with a shrug of his shoulders as he wiggled his way onto his elbows, the rest of his body maintaining its earlier sprawl.

Brian didn't vocalize his opinion verbally, but instead made a rumbling sound deep in his throat and scrubbed his hands over his face. He wanted to sleep, desperately, but the last three times he'd tried he'd ended up being woken by nightmares that were disjointed and otherwise made no sense. Strapped to a table and having the odd series of numbers and letters tattooed to his hip. Later that afternoon, after he'd seen the picture of his newborn son, came a second where he was trapped somewhere in pitch darkness while odd sounds echoed around him. Then came the one he'd woken from that morning, by far the most unnerving of them all. Brian couldn't remember seeing a face as he turned to see his attacker, but there had been a pair of dark eyes, nearly black and practically glittering with malice.

"Your head can't be doing much better with all the alcohol we drank last night," Justin murmured as his hands came up to cradle Brian's head. He was incredibly gentle as he threaded his fingers through Brian's which were already gripping at his skull.

Slowly Brian lifted his head to meet Justin's gaze, still shocked by the startling honesty he could see in those blue eyes. "My head's fine. It's my nerves that are another matter."

"Then you must be a lot better at holding your alcohol than I am," Justin grinned as he began massaging Brian's scalp.

"I do believe that I have a few more years of practice than you do," Brian smirked as he squeezed his fingers around Justin's. "How old are you, anyway?"

Justin arched an eyebrow as he answered, "Twenty-six."

"That's definitely better than the twelve years old you actually look," Brian smirked, earning him a smack on the arm from the blonde. "Okay, fine. Fifteen at most."

Maintaining his grip on Justin's fingers, Brian bought their joined hands down between their bodies, holding onto them as he heaved himself to his feet. He pulled Justin up with him, the motion bringing the two of them together so that their chests were nearly flush. Still sleep rumpled as he was, Brian could feel the heat radiating off Justin from their close proximity.

"I never thought the day would come when I'd say this, but thanks for not taking advantage of last night's situation," Brian said quietly, his eyes flittering away from Justin's gaze. "As enjoyable as it would have been, chances are we both would probably be regretting it now since we're probably going to be trapped in here for a while."

Even as he said the words, Brian could have cursed himself for uttering them. They were words that he had never thought would come out of his mouth in any context. Justin was hot and under normal circumstances Brian would have fucked him in an instant. But then he would have cast Justin aside the next day just like he did with all his other tricks. Brian didn't want to do that. He didn't want to hurt Justin who had been doing his utmost to help him in an unbelievable situation.

"I was actually going to say the same thing to you," Justin mumbled, ducking his head down in embarrassment. "It would just.... Everything would get weird and I like the non-weirdness we have going on right now."

Brian couldn't help but smirk at that, nudging Justin's forehead with his chin. He waited for Justin to meet his eyes before leaning down to catch Justin's lips in a quick kiss. "Just so you know, if the situation was different, I would have taken advantage of it. You're pretty hot."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Kinney," Justin grinned, squeezing Brian's fingers briefly before pulling away and starting towards the kitchen. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Coffee and toast," Brian said to the retreating back as he stretched the kinks out of his back. 

"Try again!" Justin shouted over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the coffee machine. "You're going to eat real food as long as you're in my home."

Brian made sure to look offended as he followed Justin into the kitchen. "I don't remember that being a part of our agreement. Besides, toast is a real food."

"But it's not enough for a meal," Justin pointed out. "So pick something to go with your toast."

"You're a real slave driver. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Despite his protests, Brian allowed Justin to feed him a stack of pancakes and even ate a link of breakfast sausage. He didn't want to eat the food, but at the same time he couldn't say so when Justin flashed him his mega watt smile. It bothered him that Justin was able to affect him so easily over such a short amount of time, but at the same time he found it oddly comforting. There was a strange normalcy to it that he couldn't quite explain.

Since the roads were still all blocked off from the continuing snow, Brian spent the morning on the couch with CNN on the television and Justin's laptop on the coffee table in front of him. It would take him a long time to get up to date on what had happened over the past three years, but he at least wanted to stay current. 

He also wanted to give Justin the chance to work on his art which he could tell was very important to the younger man. There were pieces scattered throughout the house in every room. The one that caught Brian's attention the most was an almost inconspicuous one hung next to the guest room door. It was a very simple painting of a pair of hands protruding from green sleeves curled around shoulders that were covered by a blue shirt. There was something that he found utterly fascinating about the details in the hands and the way they curved so delicately around the broad shoulders with a great deal of strength.

Deciding to take a break around lunch, Brian shut off the television and the laptop and made his way towards Justin's studio. It had been a long time since he'd seen an artist at work and wasn't the least bit opposed to watching the half naked blonde create. It would be even more enjoyable if said blonde also happened to have smears of paint on his flesh.

"Am I allowed to intrude?" Brian asked as he knocked on the door jamb leading into the sunroom.

Startled, the blonde spun around, smacking the corner of his jaw with a paintbrush. "Brian? I thought you were watching CNN."

Crossing the space between them, Brian reached a hand up to wipe away the smear of paint with the pad of his thumb. "I decided that I was in need of some human interaction. For some reason I feel like it's been severely lacking for quite a while."

Brian wasn't even aware of the thought until it had slipped past his lips. Frowning slightly, Brian rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to figure out where the thought had come from. He realized the futility of it quickly and shook his head, dropping his arm back down to his side. 

Brian offered Justin an apologetic smile then nodded his head over Justin's shoulder. "What are you working on?"

Justin's face went beat red and he ducked his head down. "It's um.... Promise not to make any snap decisions?"

That had Brian instantly intrigued and he peeked once again over Justin's shoulder to get a glimpse at the canvas in the center of the room. He was surprised to see his own image staring back at him. A version of himself dressed only in jeans and standing in front of a ruined city.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were going to turn me into a work of art," Brian mused, moving closer so as to better see the work. "This is impressive, Justin."

"It's still rough," Justin mumbled as he came to stand next to Brian. "I haven't got the shadows on your face quite right and your chest looks a little funny...."

Brian nudged him with his elbow. "Take the compliment, Justin. You deserve it."

The blonde flashed him a quick grin and nodded his head. "Then thank you. I'm just.... I'm not used to having people compliment me."

"I'll have to see what I can do to remedy that," Brian said enigmatically as he turned on his heel and strode out of the sunroom.

"Why do I suddenly feel very worried?" Justin called after him, his voice dissolving into laughter.

Smirking, Brian made his way over to the fridge, wanting to make lunch for the both of them. It wasn't often that he had domestic inclinations, but he wanted to be able to do something for Justin after everything the blonde had done for him in the past twenty-four hours alone. He knew that it was nowhere near any type of repayment, but making Justin lunch was the least he could do. Thankfully, Justin kept a fully stalked fridge so Brian quickly found all the ingredients he needed to make a simple meal for the two of them. 

As Brian was slicing a tomato the tip of the knife jerked against the cutting board which caused the knife to slip and cut into his finger. 

"Ow. Shit," Brian cursed as he brought the finger to his mouth. When he felt the coppery tang against his tongue, he immediately lowered his hand and reached with his free hand to turn on the sink. He realized that he must have hit a vein when he saw the amount of blood dribbling down his fingers and onto the stainless steel basin below.

_His arms gave out as he tried to push himself off the concrete. It was only through sheer force of will that he was able to hold his head up so that it didn't crack against the solid ground. There was a solid "plop" and as Brian turned his head down in the direction of the sound he watched as yet another drop of his blood plummeted to the already slick ground._

"Brian!"

His entire body jerked away from the gentle touch on his shoulder. He knew that it was Justin, but the fear and the panic with that still filled him. Trembling, Brian clutched at his hair with his right hand, willing away those emotions.

"Brian?"

Gasping, Brian leaned his back against the counter, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. He could still feel the pain lingering in his body, accompanied by the sharp sting from his cut finger.

"Brian, I'm just going to wrap your hand up," Justin murmured softly. "You're bleeding all over and I don't think blood will come out of your shirt."

Still trembling, Brian held his hand out in the blonde's direction. "I'm losing my mind," he moaned, pressing his free hand over his eyes. 

Justin tenderly wrapped his hand in a dishtowel, holding it carefully as he reached up to guide Brian's hand away from his face. Brian followed the tug of his hand and leaned into Justin's body, seeking comfort from the smaller man. There was a dull pounding through his skull and a lingering ache throughout the rest of his body, his muscles remembering what must have once been a real pain.

"You're not losing your mind," Justin whispered into the side of his head. "You're mind's just trying to process what happened to you. It's only letting you see what you can process right now."

"Well I'd rather it keep these things to itself," he grumbled, burrowing his face deeper into the crook of Justin's neck and shoulder. "If this is what I have to remember I don't want to remember any of it."

The blonde was thankfully silent after that, contenting himself with winding his fingers through Brian's hair, massaging the base of his skull in the process. It was a slightly awkward position for him to remain in with Justin being several inches shorter than him. He would probably end up with a crick in his neck, but Brian didn't care at the moment. He would gladly endure the pain so long as it meant Justin kept scraping his fingernails against his scalp.

Eventually, though, he was forced to move and stood back, leaning against the counter as he regained his composure. "Thanks, um.... Thanks for that. For not thinking I'm a complete and utter freak."

Justin said nothing, but instead reached up to push a few strands of hair away from his eyes, his fingertips lingering on Brian's cheek afterwards. "You're not a freak. At least not in the sense you're thinking of. Now, come on. The first aid kit is in the bathroom."

Brian allowed himself to be led around by the younger man, not putting up any type of protests and he was herded out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Light hands pushed him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet and he sat slumped, barely aware of what was going on around him, as his mind was off somewhere else. He was trying to focus on Justin's fingers as they moved against his skin, but his mind kept slipping off, trying to piece together events he couldn't remember.

It was a stinging pain that originated from his cut finger that brought him back to reality. He glanced up sharply, his eyes catching sight of the bottle of alcohol in Justin's hands before his gaze flickered up to the blonde's.

"Sorry about that," Justin mumbled, smiling apologetically at him. "I don't... I don't think it's deep enough to need stitches. It is kinda deep, though."

"I'm not normally that klutzy," Brian said quietly, staring in awe at Justin's fingers as they wound the bandage around his finger, securing it in place with a piece of medical tape. Justin started to pull his hand away, but Brian reacted quickly, winding their fingers together. "Thanks."

"You don't have to keep saying that," Justin admonished, squeezing his fingers around Brian's.

Brian nodded his head, once again scrubbing his right hand through his hair. "Normally I wouldn't. My head's more jumbled than normal 'cause I wasn't even sure those words were ever a part of my vocabulary."

"Nothing wrong with learning some new words," Justin teased as he released Brian's hand. "Now I do believe you were in the process of making lunch."

"You schedule your life around food, don't you?" Brian questioned, pushing himself up off the toilet to help Justin clean up the mess.

"There's not much else to schedule it around when the weather gets like this," Justin defended himself. "Speaking of which, I'm going to check the radio to see how the plowing is going then I'll order the plane tickets."

Brian still felt odd about accepting Justin's help, but nodded nonetheless. There was little else he could do at the moment. Once they got back to Pittsburgh and he got everything sorted out Brian had every intention of paying Justin back for everything he'd done. He didn't want to feel in debt to the younger man. 

His second attempt at making sandwiches was a far better success. 

"Do you want mayo on your sandwich?" Brian called over his shoulder as it came time to assemble all the ingredients together.

"Of course I do!" the blonde shouted back at him. "You need mayo with a turkey sandwich."

Brian shook his head even though he knew Justin couldn't see him. "No you don't."

"You're one of those health freaks, aren't you?"

"Ahh, but you said I wasn't a freak," Brian countered as he slathered a thin layer of mayonnaise on Justin's sandwich.

"Then I changed my mind," Justin said, his voice closer as he moved into the kitchen. "You're a certifiable freak if you don't like mayonnaise on your sandwich."

"Thanks for that," Brian smirked, placing he top slice of bread on the sandwich.

Justin was silent for a moment then came up to stand next to him. "The first flight I could get us tickets for is late tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully the snow can hold out that long."

"Tomorrow afternoon," Brian repeated, nodding his head slightly.


	6. Made to be Broken

It was obvious that Brian had been quite well known in Pittsburgh as the pair made their way down Liberty Avenue to the diner where Brian was sure he would find his friends. The duo had arrived in the city the night before and rather than contacting his family then, Brian had decided to wait till the following morning. Wanting to support the older man, Justin had agreed to his decision, watching over Brian as he paced nervously about their hotel room.

That morning, Brian was showing signs of his difficult night. Of course, it would also have a great deal to do with what he would be facing in a short while. He would be meeting face to face with the people who'd believed he was dead for the past three and a half years. His best friend, his surrogate mother and his lover would undoubtedly be at the Liberty Diner if their habits hadn't changed in the past few years.

"You ready for this?" Justin murmured as they neared the diner, reaching over to brush his fingers against Brian's hand.

Brian's steps faltered and he glanced down at Justin momentarily. "Not really, but I have to do this. I need to find out what happened to me."

"Do you want me to wait outside?"

The words had barely left Justin's mouth when Brian latched onto his hand. He didn't say anything, but maintained a firm grip on Justin's as he reached for the door with his free hand. Justin squeezed his fingers, holding tight to Brian's hand as the two of them made their way into the diner.

Complete and utter silence greeted their entrance.

"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Brian said into the silence.

The silence lasted a few more moments until a waitress in a red wig came barreling towards them with a dark scowl on her face. "I don't know who in the hell you think you are, but you get out of here right now," she hissed, jabbing a finger in the middle of Brian's chest.

"Deb, what the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded, his skin blanching noticeably.

"Don't you 'Deb' me, buster," she growled as she continued to walk the two of them towards the exit. "You have a lot of nerve coming in here pretending to be Brian. Have you no respect for the dead?"

"I might if I was actually dead," Brian shot back, his shoulders shifting under the borrowed coat. "This is just unfuckingbelievable!"

Justin placed a hand on Brian's arm, hoping to stop the explosion of emotions that he knew was coming.

"For some insane reason I thought that my family might actually be glad that I wasn't dead," Brian snorted, hiding his disappointment behind a sharp facade of anger. "Sure I thought Mel might want to dance on my grave, but I figured you would at least give a damn."

Brian stalked out of the diner without giving Deb a chance to respond. Justin was left floundering, not sure what to do. He wanted to make sure that Brian was all right, but, at the same time, felt the need to defend the other man.

"I may not know Brian all that well, but I know that he loves you a lot," Justin murmured darkly, meeting her angry gaze head on. "All that he cared about was getting back here because he wanted to see his family and make sure that you were all safe."

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to find Brian if he waited any longer, Justin followed his friend's path from the diner and headed in the direction of the rental jeep, hoping that Brian had gone there. He couldn't believe the way that Deb had reacted to Brian's return. From the way Brian had spoken of her, it was obvious that he thought of her as a surrogate mother. To have her reject him so easily--

"Eeep!"

Justin smacked Brian's chest once he realized who had pulled him into the alley beside the diner.

"Easy there, Sunshine," Brian smirked, absently rubbing his chest where Justin had hit him.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Justin demanded as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

"I didn't think you'd freak out," Brian apologized, running a hand up and down Justin's arm.

The fact that Brian was showing any kind of remorse was proof of just how much the earlier confrontation had affected him. Leaving one arm down at his side where Brian's hand was holding it, Justin slipped his other arm around Brian's shoulders so that he could pull the other man still closer. He could feel Brian shuddering against him and tightened his hold, not knowing what else there was he could do.

"Do you wanna go back to the hotel?" Justin said against the side of his head once the trembling had faded somewhat.

Brian let out a loud breath before pulling back to rest his forehead against Justin's. "I'm not sure what I want right now. This isn't how I expected this morning to go."

"Then how about this, we go back to the jeep and drive down to the riverfront," Justin suggested as he began to massage the tense muscles at the back of Brian's throat. "We can pick up some food on the way then you can figure out what you want to do next."

"It's the middle of winter," Brian pointed out, staring down at him in confusion.

"Yeah, but compared to what I'm used to this time of year it's practically summer."

With a tremulous sigh, Brian nodded his head. "All right, as long as there's no Egg McWhatevers. You've stuffed me full of enough fatty foods to last a lifetime."

"I haven't even started," Justin informed him as he began to lead Brian back towards the sidewalk.

For some reason, as soon as they reached the mouth of the alley, Brian stood stock still, refusing to take another step. Justin placed a hand on his new friend's arm, staring up at him in confusion. When it became obvious that he was going to get no information from Brian, Justin turned his head so that he could track the path of Brian's gaze.

On the opposite sidewalk stood a short, dark-haired man with his arm around the waist of a tall, broad shouldered man. They were both laughing and from the way they were touching it was easy to see that they were intimate.

"That's Mikey and Ben," Brian murmured as he turned and guided Justin in the opposite direction. 

After what had happened with Deb, Justin could completely understand why he didn't want to face his best friend and lover. And on top of that the two men were interacting as though they were lovers. Even though Brian hadn't said it aloud, Justin knew that he loved Ben. After all, to him it had only been less than two weeks since he'd last seen his lover and to see the man he had been starting to build a life with in the arms of his best friend had to be a huge blow. Brian had been counting on having Ben there with him while he sorted out the pieces-- he'd told Justin as much.

Without even being aware of it, Justin's arm slid around Brian's waist. He didn't notice it until Brian slipped away from him as he entered a bakery next to where they'd parked the jeep. Justin allowed Brian to select whatever he would for their breakfast and didn't protest when the other man reached into his wallet for the meager amount of money it held, knowing that to do so would only shatter the calm that Brian was barely clinging to.

That calm was threatened even more in the wake of countless stares being cast their way. There were whispers. Loud, obvious whispers that made Justin uneasy and he wasn't even the one they whispered about. Wanting to give support, but not wanting to seem obvious about it, Justin brush his knuckles against Brian's as he came up next to the dark-haired man on the sidewalk. He snatched the bag of bagels from Brian, tossing him the keys for the jeep in return.

"You drive," Justin instructed, stopping in front of the passenger door. "I have no idea where we're going anyway."

"You just want to be able to start snacking before we get there," Brian accused him, a smile softening the blow of his words.

Justin did nothing to contradict his words, letting Brian believe what he would. In truth he was just curious to find out where Brian would take them. Justin had been to Pittsburgh a few times when he was a kid, the last time when he was eight, so there wasn't much of the city that he remembered. His grandparents' house was really the only place that he could visually recollect, but he didn't see himself taking Brian to meet them. He couldn't exactly introduce Brian as "the guy I found passed out on my porch." Justin might go and see her on his own, but even that wasn't a definite plan.

It was impossible to make any definite plans when they were in such an unpredictable situation. What had happened at the Liberty Diner was proof enough of that. Justin never would have expected the woman that Brian had described to him as a mother treating the man like that. The way Brian had spoke of her, Justin would have thought that she'd have him engulfed in a bone crushing hug and that he'd have to rescue Brian from her clutches. Instead, with a few sentences, she'd managed to destroy whatever confidence he'd managed to build up that morning before they left their hotel room.

The night before, the pair had started off each of them in one of the two queen sized beds in their room, but some time during the night, Justin had half woken up as the mattress shifted under Brian's weight. Justin hadn't woken up completely, but enough to feel Brian's arm wind around his waist as the taller man wiggled up next to him. Brian had let out a ragged sigh against his shoulder and then the other man had drifted back off to sleep. When he'd woken up that morning, Justin had been by himself in his bed. It took him a moment for his senses to orient and he could hear the shower running. Justin had remained in bed, staring up at the ceiling while he waited for Brian to emerge from the bathroom.

Less than two hours later they were in a nearly deserted park heading towards a picnic table near the edge of one of the rivers that intersected in Pittsburgh.

"Before you even suggest it," Justin said as he straddled one of the picnic table benches, already in the process of removing his gloves, "I'm not going back to New York yet."

Brian said nothing at first as he reached into the bag to snag a poppy seed bagel. His tongue found its way to his cheek as though it was attempting to poke its way out from the inside. It was a habit of Brian's that Justin had noticed early on, but he still hadn't figured out the meaning of. 

"Just know that you have an out no matter what," Brian said quietly, toying with the bagel.

"Well I don't plan on taking it, so you might as well get used to it," the blonde grinned as he reached into the bag for his own bagel as well as the container of cream cheese. His smile only grew when he saw Brian's shudder at the amount of cream cheese he was smearing on his bagel.

"Your arteries are going to be completely clogged by the time you're thirty," Brian snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's not the least bit healthy."

"Yeah, but it's good," the artist countered as he ripped a bite-sized portion of the bagel off. "Come on, try some."

He held the bit of cream cheesed smeared bagel up to Brian's lips, smirking as the man refused to open his mouth. Justin was attempting to suppress his giggles and accidentally jerked his hand in the process, smearing some of the cream cheese on the tip of Brian's nose. That only made him laugh harder, especially when Brian snatched the bagel piece from his fingertips and slammed it against his nose. The bagel stuck there for a few moments before dropping onto the wooden table.

"You could have just said no," Justin snorted as he dug through the bag for a napkin to clean his nose with.

"Somehow I doubt you would have listened to that," Brian smirked, snatching a napkin from Justin's fingers so that he could wipe the cream cheese from his nose.

The two of them managed to eat the rest of their breakfast without attacking each other with condiments. As had become usual, Justin was the one doing the bulk of the talking. He filled the void with mindless chatter, most of it pop culture references from the past three years that he thought Brian should know about. Brian was refusing to believe the whole "American Idol" phenomenon until Justin's point was proved as a car pulling into the parking lot was blasting the latest Clay Aiken song.

"You have got to be shitting me," Brian grumbled, his features still screwed up in a wince even after the radio had been shut off. "That's horrible."

"That's the latest craze that doesn't seem to be going away," Justin answered back, reaching over to smooth the crease at the bridge of Brian's nose.

"God help this world," Brian groaned, doing nothing to move away from Justin's touch. Instead, he moved more towards the fingertips, his features relaxing.

Justin lifted his free hand to lightly run his fingers over Brian's temple. He hated what was happening to the other man. It was bad enough that he had no memory of the past three and a half years, but to have his mother reject him like that shocked even him. She hadn't even seemed to pause long enough to consider that it was really Brian before attacking.

"Time to eat," Justin murmured a few moments later as he pulled back. "You're putting meat on your bones if it's the last thing I do."

"How about we go back to the hotel. It's too cold to eat out here," Brian pleaded, rubbing his hands together vigorously.

Justin rolled his eyes as he snatched up the bag. "You're no fun whatsoever."

"Because I don't want to get frostbite?"

"Do you have any idea how grateful I would be if it was thirty-eight degrees in late November back home?" the blonde demanded, crossing over to the other side of the picnic table so that he could fall in step with Brian. "This is practically summer weather for me."

"This is freezing," Brian grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to conserve whatever body heat remained.

Switching the bag over to his opposite hand, Justin wound an arm around Brian's waist to lend the slender man some of his own body heat. Brian stiffened momentarily before leaning into him. Justin couldn't even begin to fathom what Brian was going through and he didn't want to. He wouldn't wish Brian's fate on anyone, not even the guys who'd tried to kill him. There were times that the vulnerability faded and Brian's natural personality peeked through. Brian was a very proud man, very independent. To have to depend on others had to be killing him.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about Deb," Justin murmured before he could stop himself. "I know how much you were looking forward to seeing her again."

Brian pursed his lips and remained silent. Justin knew that he'd run the risk of such a reaction when he'd made the comment, but had still felt that he needed to get the thought out there. He felt confident, though, because Brian continued to lean into him, taking comfort silently.

"By now everybody probably knows about my being back," Brian sighed a few moments later, his steps slowing somewhat. "Deb doesn't know how to keep secrets. Neither can Mikey. And once everyone knows there will probably be a witch hunt."

"You don't know that," Justin tried to insist, stopping to tug at Brian's arm. "These people are your family, Brian. What about Ben? The two of you had a life together."

"And you saw how he was with Michael," Brian said dejectedly.

"That's because as far as he knows you've been dead for three and a half years," the blonde pointed out, his voice calm and rational. "It sucks, yeah, but that doesn't mean he loves you any less. He thinks that you're dead. Would you really want him to spend the rest of his life pining for you?"

"I just want to know what the fuck happened to me," Brian growled, stabbing the fingers of his free hand through his wild hair. "I want to know how I got that scar and why I have that tattoo."

"And if I knew I'd tell you. Or I'd point you in the right direction so that you could find it out for yourself. But I can't do either," Justin sighed as he slid his hand along Brian's arm before releasing it so that his arm fell back to his side.

Brian nodded his head, his eyes darting to the ground. "I know. Doesn't make it any easier."

"I don't doubt it for a moment," Justin assured him, his hand once again moving in Brian's direction.

For reasons that Justin didn't really know, he found himself compelled to continually touch the other man. Even on the plane ride, his fingers had often strayed to Brian's hand as it hung over the end of the arm rest. He didn't know what Brian's opinion of it was, but he hadn't protested any. In fact, many times Brian even leaned into his touch or moved his fingers against Justin's, twining them together.

"If you want, you could take the jeep and go wander off for some alone time," Justin suggested to him. "I know that you haven't had much time to yourself over the past few days so if you wanted...."

Brian heaved a great, shuddering sigh. "That's not really a good idea. I'll just self destruct and I don't need that complication right now."

"It's probably not the best thing you could do," Justin agreed, his fingers absently touching the hem of Brian's coat. He was just about to move his hand away when Brian's own hand flipped over to grasp at his fingers. "So then what...?"

"I just want to go back to the hotel," Brian mumbled, squeezing Justin's fingers slightly. "Figure out what I'm going to do next."

Justin nodded silently. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want."

Keeping hold of Justin's hand, Brian turned back towards the parking lot. They managed to get two steps before Brian stopped dead, staring forward like a deer caught in the headlights. Justin followed the path of his gaze to see another man with the exact same expression. It took Justin a moment before he recognized who was standing there.

"Ben," Brian gasped, confirming Justin's thoughts as the other man started towards them.

The strong, defined features of the university professor were lax with shock, staring at Brian with wide eyes. "It's really you."

Justin was relieved to see the acceptance in Brian's expression. He wasn't sure if Brian would have been able to take being rejected by both his surrogate mother and his lover in the span of an hour.

"Hey there, Professor," Brian murmured as he continued to clutch tightly to Justin.

Those quietly spoken words brought a huge smile to Ben's face which led Justin to believe that was a typical greeting of Brian's.

"I thought Deb had lost her mind when she said you'd been at the diner," Ben breathed out, his fingers fluttered as though he would reach out to touch Brian at any moment. "I was afraid to let myself hope too much."

"Mikey sided with Deb, didn't he?" Brian asked, sucking his lips inwards when he fell silent.

"It's been almost four years, Brian," the broad shouldered man sighed. "For you to just appear out of nowhere...."

Brian began to tremble slightly, his jaw muscles tensing. "It wasn't nowhere, Ben."

"Then where--"

"I don't know. I don't fucking know where I’ve been or what happened to me. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Brian demanded, his voice becoming almost hysterical.


	7. Made to be Broken

His heartbeat was echoing in his ears. Pounding within his skull so loud that he couldn't hear anything else. Brian nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand brush against the small of his back. He was about to panic and move away from the touch when it registered in his mind whose hand it was. Brian willingly leaned back into Justin's touch, taking comfort from the blonde's presence.

"Relax, Brian," Justin murmured in his ear. "No one's going to hurt you. It's just you, me and Ben here. Breathe deeply.... There you go."

Snuffling quietly, Brian scrubbed his hands over his face. He continued to lean into Justin, willingly away the pounding between his ears. It was several long minutes before he calmed down. He hated that he'd broken down so completely in public. He should have waited until he could lock himself in the hotel bathroom. Seeing Ben had thrown him off, though. Ben was the only one he'd ever let himself get close enough to in order to start a relationship. Before the professor, Brian had never thought he'd allow himself to be in a relationship. To be dependent on someone else in any way.

"Are you okay, Brian?" Ben asked, lifting a hand up to cup his cheek.

Instinctively, Brian allowed himself to turn his head into Ben's hand. It was a natural reaction. Startling suddenly, Brian pulled back, his mind recalling having seen Ben and Michael together earlier that morning. Barely more than an hour before.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, moving closer to Justin. "Fine."

The expression on Ben's face was one that Brian had seen countless times. The "I care about you please don't hide anything," expression that the Buddhist had mastered. However, unlike so many other times in the past, Brian had no intentions of giving in to it. He needed to remain calm and in control. He was already so completely vulnerable.

"If you wanted, I could get lost so you guys can talk," Justin suggested, his hand leaving Brian's body as he moved to stand between the two lovers.

For a brief moment, Brian felt panic creeping up on him. He didn't want Justin to go away. Justin was normal. Safe. However, he knew that he needed to talk to Ben. Ben was the most likely candidate to give him an objective view of the last three and a half years in Pittsburgh.

"Just keep your cell on," Brian pleaded, releasing a deep breath after he said the words.

The artist nodded his head. "I will."

A quick squeeze of his hand and Justin was gone. Brian watched his retreat, offering up a tight smile when Justin turned back around briefly as he reached the parking lot.

"Who's that?" Ben asked once Brian was forced to turn his attention away from Justin as the jeep pulled out of the parking lot.

"That's Justin," Brian sighed, wrapping his arms around his body as he raised his eyes to meet Ben's familiar gaze. "He's the one who found me."

"Are you sure that he doesn't have something to do with--"

"Don't," Brian growled, cutting him off. "Don't try to blame this on Justin."

"How can you be so sure that you can trust him?" Ben persisted, concern filling his expression. "You said that you don't remember what happened to you, so how do you know that Justin didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Because I really don't think that he'd be going through so much trouble to help me if he did," Brian defended, feeling incredibly defensive for Justin's sake. "Look, can we please just go somewhere and talk? Somewhere less open?"

Ben nodded his head automatically, reaching over to place a hand on Brian's arm. He frowned slightly when Brian moved away before his hand could make contact and immediately dropped his arm. "Sure. We can go back to the loft. It'll be familiar to you."

Brian was immediately tempted to nod his head. The loft was his home. He'd worked hard to save up enough money to make the down payment on the space and even harder to furnish it. To his mind it had been only two weeks since he'd brushed a kiss against Ben's lips, having woken the professor up just enough to say goodbye as he left on his trip to San Francisco. He'd only meant to be away from Ben for a few weeks so that he could be back in time to go with the professor for his interview at Columbia.

"Brian?" Ben prompted, taking a half step closer, stopping when Brian flinched backwards.

"Yeah. Let's go to the loft," Brian stammered, hugging himself still tighter. "Just...."

"Don't worry, I'll keep my distance," Ben assured him, already turning towards the parking lot. "I won't touch you unless you initiate it."

Brian nodded his head jerkily. "Thanks. It's not you, but...."

"I know," the professor said quickly. "You don't need to justify anything, Brian. Not to me. We'll just go back to the loft and talk."

After releasing another deep breath, Brian allowed Ben to lead him to where he'd parked his car. It wasn't the same car Ben had owned the last time he'd seen him. It was still a compact car, though, and for the life of him Brian had never been able to figure out how someone as tall and broad as Ben Bruckner could fit comfortably into a compact car. Brian didn't comment, though. He simply stretched his legs out as much as he was able in the confining foot well.

"Michael let you keep the loft?" Brian asked as they headed towards Tremont. He was hoping that Ben would deny what he'd seen earlier and claim to be living alone in the loft.

"He still had the lease at his apartment, so yeah," Ben confirmed with a slight nod. "But then the lease ran out and Emmett moved in with Ted so...."

"So you and Mikey live together," Brian finished for him. "Was this before or after you...?"

"After," Ben admitted, pursing his narrow lips tightly so that they almost disappeared.

It surprised Brian that Ben's confession didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would. He'd expected to feel as though his heart had been stabbed in two. As much as it was supposed to. Instead he felt nothing, as though he was still numb all the way through.

"It's been three years. I can't expect you to stay celibate forever," Brian mumbled as he stared out at the passing traffic. "Mikey needed someone anyway. He'd been alone too long."

While he may have been calm and collected while in the car, seeing his beloved loft filled with Michael's toys was a completely different matter. It wasn't him home anymore. There was no way that he could pretend it was. Not when there was a huge cut out of Captain Astro where his naked man picture had once hung. The only thing that was the same was the meditation area that had once shared space with his black leather chaise. The chair was gone, but everything else in that small space was exactly where it was supposed to be.

"All of your furniture is down in the storage area," Ben was quick to inform him as Brian hesitantly entered the loft, shedding the borrowed coat as he went. There was a couch where his computer desk had once been and Brian tossed it on there before continuing further into the space. "I couldn't bear to get rid of any of it when Michael moved in."

Brian couldn't get any words out of his throat so he nodded his head. It wasn't as though he had a place to put any of furniture. At the moment he was living in a hotel room that Justin was paying for and he didn't know where he was going to stay once the artist returned to New York.

"Do you want some coffee?" Ben asked in the silence that followed. "Bottle of water?"

Brian chose the coffee because it would take longer to prepare. He was nervous about having to answer whatever questions the professor could come up with. Given his profession, Brian knew that those questions would be very in depth as he attempted to needle at Brian's already addled memory.

"How come you were willing to believe that it was me?" Brian asked as Ben fiddled away with the coffee machine. "Deb blew me off before I could even get a sentence out."

Ben shrugged his shoulders absently. "It's Deb. You know she doesn't take too well to surprises. And seeing you come back from the dead...."

"I was never dead," Brian ground out, stabbing his fingers into his hair. "I don't know what the fuck happened to be, but I wasn't dead. I wasn't."

"Brian--"

"No! I don't want to hear any of your spiritual mumbo jumbo right now, professor," Brian insisted, cutting the other man off. "That won't fix anything."

While he'd been speaking, Ben had moved around the counter to stand next to him. Ben slowly raised his hands up to cover Brian's in an attempt to ease the death grip with slighter man had on his hair. Brian allowed him to do just that, relaxing even more when he felt familiar arms wind around his shoulders to pull him into a hug. He turned his head so that his cheek rested against Ben's shoulder and released a shuddering breath. Brian just wanted to be able to close his eyes and pretend that none of it had really happened. That there hadn't been an accident in San Francisco and that he wasn't missing the last three and a half years of his life.

Very soon though, the contact became too much for Brian and he slipped out of Ben's hold. He took several steps back, folding his arms over his chest. "How are Lindsay and the baby?" Brian asked, hoping to ignore questions of his own past for the moment. "Justin found the birth announcement on the Net. Gus is okay, right? Even though he was born early?"

"Gus is fine," Ben said, a smile appearing instantly on his face. "He's a little small, but he's beautiful and very smart. And he knows all about you. Lindsay and I made sure of it. I have a picture of him here."

"Mel must hate that," Brian smirked, his eyes following Ben as he hurried up into the bedroom which now had an actual wall blocking it off instead of the paneled glass. He was gone from Brian's sight only seconds before he reappeared with a framed picture in his hands.

"Mel doesn't have much of a say," Ben said ominously as he handed to picture to Brian.

Brian let out a shuddering breath as he stared down at his son's grinning face. The little boy had been cursed with his unruly hair which was practically sticking up on end in the picture, helped a great deal by the goggles that were pushed up on his forehead. The toothy grin and bright hazel eyes made Brian's heart swell. That was his son. His child posing in a red terry cloth towel cape, yellow t-shirt with some odd face on it, jean shorts and rubber boots, looking every bit the miniature superhero.

"Gus is going through a phase right now where he thinks he's a superhero," Ben informed him, his voice tearing Brian's attention away from the photograph. "He probably spends too much time with Michael, but that's just because his uncle Mickey has all the best stories about his dada."

"He's a real person now," Brian whispered as he fingered the picture of his son. "Not just that little alien that was poking at the inside of Lindz' stomach.... Shit."

"When are you going to get in touch with Lindsay?"

Pursing his lips, Brian lowered the picture as he met the taller man's gaze. "I'm not sure. I was going to call her later today, but after what happened with Deb.... I don't know what to do. I just need to regroup."

Whatever Ben would have said was lost as the loft door was thrown open, the force of it causing the door to bounce back as it reached the end of its runners. On the other side was his entire family. Deb, Vic, Michael, Emmett, Ted, Lindsay and Mel were all there, fourteen pairs of eyes locked on him. Most of them didn't look very happy to see him and Brian felt his panic rising. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to confront all of them at once. Not after what had happened with Deb and the diner.

"Shouldn't you all be at work?" Ben demanded, coming to his defense.

"What about you?" Michael shouted, stepping away from the crowd. "You have a class today that you should be teaching."

"That's not until two-thirty. Now could you all please leave? This is hard enough on Brian without everyone ganging up on him," Ben told the other man, his eyes flitting over everyone as he spoke.

"And let him sweet talk you into believing that he's Brian? I don't think so," Melanie snorted as she moved to stand next to Michael. "Brian is dead. His car exploded with him in it forty months ago in San Francisco. He's dead."

"I'm not dead," Brian insisted, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "I think I'd notice if I was."

"So you've just miraculously come back from the dead after almost four years?" Mel pressed. "You show up out of nowhere, the day before Thanksgiving, and expect us to believe that you're Brian Kinney back from the dead?"

"Where have you been?" Lindsay asked nervously, edging away from the rest of the group. "Why haven't you contacted us before?"

"Because I don't know where I've been?" Brian sighed as he momentarily squeezed himself tighter. "I don't...."

"Isn't that rich!" Melanie barked, her bitter laughter filling the room. "You just happen to have no memory of the time you were gone. Perfect!"

"It is a little convenient," Ted spoke up somewhat timidly.

Brian scrubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to hide the tremors that were beginning to shake his body. "It's still the truth. Before I woke up in Justin's living room a few days ago the last thing I remember is being in San Francisco. San Francisco three and a half years ago. I don't know what happened between then and now."

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" Michael snorted as he moved to stand next to Melanie.

"I don't care what you believe!" Brian shouted, his voice cracking towards the end. "Fact is, I'm Brian fucking Kinney and I didn't fucking die three and a half fucking years ago. That's the truth no matter how much you try to deny it."

Brian's outburst was initially met with silence. That lasted for all of five seconds before everyone began talking at once. Melanie, Michael, Ted and Deb trying to prove that Brian wasn't who he said he was while the others fired off questions at him, wanting to know where he'd been and what was going on. Brian stood there, somewhat shell shocked, while Ben marched forward, defending him against his attackers.

_Everything was white. A brilliant, blinding white that made his eyes ache. Brian tried to close his eyes to lessen the impact of the light, but he couldn't. He couldn't move to shield his eyes either._

_Even more painful was the buzzing noise. An incessant sound that poured into his ears and made his skull pound. Brian screamed in an attempt to block out the noise. He screamed until his throat was raw and he was only capable of making pitiful mewling sounds._

"Brian?"

His voice was fully functional as he screamed when he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him from the vision. The picture fell from his nerveless fingers, the frame shattering on the hardwood floor. A few seconds later the shouting stopped and all eyes were on him. Lindsay replaced her hand on his arm and Brian instinctively flinched away from her touch, stumbling as his foot slid on a piece of broken glass.

"Noooo...." Brian moaned, drawing the sound out as he wound his arms around his body.

The others began to advance towards him which made Brian panic. He could feel hands all over his body even though Lindsay was pointedly holding her hands up and away from him. Hands touching him, poking at him.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Brian screamed, dropping down to pick up the picture of Gus before be bolted towards the door. He shoved people out of his way, uncaring of who it was in his desperation to get out of the loft and into the open air.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"Brian!"

"Brian, come back here!"

Ignoring all of them, Brian yanked open the door and made a beeline for the stairs. He didn't want to wait for the elevator and in his haste nearly tumbled down the stairs several times, only managing to catch himself on the railing at the last second. When he heard both the elevator and someone chasing after him, Brian sped up, jumping down the last five and stumbling towards the door.

Brian kept running once he reached the sidewalk, going through allies and around corners until he was sure that no one was following after him. His thighs ached as he forced them to continue pumping, propelling him away from Tremont.

He eventually slowed to a light jog, turning into another alley when he finally stopped completely. At first, Brian wasn't too sure where he was, but didn't care at the moment. Brian was too busy fishing around in his pocket for his cell phone to worry about that. He needed Justin.

Brian's fingers were trembling as he punched in the numbers for Justin's cell phone. "Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up."

"Brian?"

At the sound of Justin's voice, Brian slumped against the nearest wall, sliding down to a crouched position. "I'm beginning to think that this was a mistake."

"Are you all right?" Justin asked, concern evident in his voice even over the distance that separated them. "Brian?"

Snuffling slightly, Brian began to tremble as he realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing a coat. "I'll meet you back at the hotel, okay?"

"Don't you want me to pick you up? It's a long way from the park to the hotel," Justin pointed out.

"I'm closer to the hotel now," Brian sighed. "Plus I need the walk to clear my head. I'll be fine."

Even as he said the words, Brian didn't believe them. He was shaking so hard that he could barely hold onto the phone. It was too cold for him to be wandering around Pittsburgh in only jeans and a simple button down shirt.

"Can you come get me?"


	8. Made to be Broken

"You're coming here for Thanksgiving tomorrow, Justin, and I won't take no for an answer."

Justin smiled fondly at the old woman, fiddling with the coffee cup in his hand. "Only if I can bring a guest."

"A guest?" Viviene Taylor questioned, arching a delicate eyebrow. "Would this guest be a special friend of yours?"

"Gram!" Justin cried, blushing furiously.

"What? It's a completely honest question," the old woman defended herself. "You've been by yourself for far too long, sweetheart. It's good if you finally have yourself a special friend."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but Brian's just a friend," he informed his grandmother.

"For now," Viviene murmured, leaning back in the plush armchair she was seated in. "Dinner will be at five tomorrow so I expect the two of you here no later than four-thirty so that Brian can be introduced to everyone."

Justin's eyes widened at that. He knew for a fact that Brian wouldn't be up to facing an interrogation from his family so soon after facing one from his own. Brian was far from fragile, but there was only so much that a person could take before they started to unravel. Justin was pretty sure that Brian was nearly at that point. The confusion of missing three and a half years of life, unexplainable scars and tattoos, Deb's reaction to his return. Justin couldn't help but be worried about what was happening with Ben. The men had been lovers, true enough, but for Ben that had been a lifetime ago while for Brian... for Brian it had been only a few weeks.

"You're not gonna gang up on Brian, are you, Gram?" Justin asked her as he set his cup down on the coffee table. "Because Brian's been going through a rough spot lately and the last thing he needs is to face twenty questions from you."

Viviene's blue eyes, ones that Justin had inherited, filled with concern at her grandson's words. "What kind of a rough spot? Family related?"

"I can't say, Gram. It's not my place. So please be nice to him tomorrow," Justin pleaded, holding her gaze across the table that separated them.

Whatever she was going to say was lost when Justin's phone began to play the chorus of "Yellow Submarine." Both of them started at the sudden shrill sound and Justin immediately reached forward to grab his cell phone off the coffee table where he'd set it after taking off his coat. As expected, it was Brian's name that appeared on the screen as he went to flip the phone open.

"Brian?" Justin asked as he brought the phone up to his ear, some part of him fearing that it wasn't the other man making the call.

There was a pause during which Justin could hear some movement on the other end before Brian mumbled, "I'm beginning to think that this was a mistake."

Justin squeezed his eyes shut tight. He could hear the anguish in Brian's voice as he spoke and knew that things hadn't gone well with Ben. "Are you all right?"

There was no response at first and Justin began to get worried.

"Brian?"

Brian made a snuffling sound that tore at Justin's heart. "I'll meet you back at the hotel, okay?"

"Don't you want me to pick you up?" Justin asked, already on his feet and moving towards the front door where his shoes and coat were. "It's a long way from the park to the hotel."

"I'm closer to the hotel now. Plus I need the walk to clear my head. I'll be fine."

Justin didn't think that he was, but he wasn't going to voice those thoughts to Brian. It would only make the other man defensive and Justin knew that wasn't a good idea at the moment. It didn't help matters much when he heard more quiet sniffling from the other man.

"Can you come get me?" Brian pleaded, his voice nearly choking off into a sob at the end.

Justin squeezed his eyes shut tight to keep his own tears away. "Just tell me where you are and I'll come right away."

Brian gave him the name of the street he was on and Justin promised to be there as soon as possible. He was just about to end the conversation when Brian once again offered up a quiet plea.

"Can you stay on the phone?"

In the process of trying to put on his right shoe, Justin paused momentarily, a sad smile tilting up the corners of his lips. "Sure, Brian. I'm just gonna put my phone down for a moment so I can put my shoes on. Okay?"

"Yeah."

Rather than putting the phone down, Justin pressed it up against his chest in order to muffle the sounds so that he could talk to his grandmother who was hovering anxiously behind him.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Viviene asked as she handed Justin his coat.

Trying to figure out how best to put it, Justin ended up with, "There's a slight emergency. It's nothing serious, but I've got to go."

"Justin...."

"Don't worry, Gram. Everything's fine. Brian and I will be here tomorrow for dinner," Justin assured her.

However, Justin himself wasn't so easily convinced. Not after having heard the panic in Brian's voice. Something had obviously happened and not knowing what it was worried him. It was inconceivable to him that Brian's family could be so intent on hurting him.

Justin gave his grandmother a one-sided hug as he brought the phone back up to his ear. "I'm back, Bri."

"I was beginning to think that you'd forgotten about me," Brian said with a forced chuckle.

"Trust me, that's pretty hard to do," the artist assured him, waving to his grandmother as he exited the house.

Speeding only slightly, it took Justin about ten minutes to get to the street Brian was on. Once there, he slowed down, keeping an eye on both sides for any sign of Brian.

"Okay, Brian, tell me where you are," Justin said as he pulled up to a stop sign. He was just about to press the gas once again when suddenly the passenger door was yanked open and Brian tossed himself into the vehicle. "There you are.... Brian, where the hell's your coat?"

Brian shook his head, squeezing his arms over his chest, rubbing his hands over his upper arms. Now that he was in the heated car, Brian began to tremble from the dual temperature sensations. Justin started to remove his jacket, knowing that Brian needed the extra body heat, but a car honking behind him forced him to accelerate through the intersection. And immediately pulled over in the first available spot on the sidewalk.

"You've gotta be freezing," Justin murmured as he slipped out of his coat. "Why didn't you go into that coffee shop?"

"Too many people," Brian mumbled, leaning into Justin as the blonde wrapped the coat around his shoulders. "Can we just go back to the hotel?"

Justin nodded automatically, giving Brian's shoulders a quick squeeze before pulling back to his side of the vehicle. "Sure."

Neither one of them said a word the entire way back to the hotel. Justin didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what had happened when he'd left Brian alone with Ben or how the older man had even ended up so far from the park. What Justin did notice was that Brian was clutching at something. A picture from what Justin could see of it. He couldn't see exactly what it was of, but Brian was staring so intently at it.

It wasn't until they were in the elevator on the way up to their hotel room that Justin was allowed to see the picture. Brian handed it to him, along with Justin's jacket, frowning slightly as he did so.

"That's Gus," was all he offered by way of explanation.

Even without it, Justin would have known that the little boy with the goggles and bath towel cape was Brian's son. The same hair, same eyes, same mouth. The only thing missing was the tongue in cheek expression that Brian seemed to make unconsciously.

"He's beautiful," Justin murmured as he handed the picture back to Brian.

"He must be mine then," the taller man sighed, pushing his bangs out of his face.

"You're more than just a pretty face," Justin was quick to assure him, straightening as the elevator stopped at their floor. "For one thing you're very intelligent. Even with only three days saturation of current events you still know a lot more about what's going on in the last three years than a lot of my friends."

"You're an artist," Brian pointed out as the two of them made their way down the dimly lit corridor to their room. "You types are flighty by nature. You just happen to be one of the rare exceptions."

"Nice save," Justin smirked.

Brian flashed him a quick smile that was gone almost as soon as Justin noticed it. There had been so much sadness in that smile, though. Almost more sadness than Justin could stand. It baffled him that Brian's family were able to write him off so quickly and hurt him so easily. It was obvious to him that Brian was floundering as he was trying to mesh what he knew with what he didn't. There were three years of his life that Brian was missing-- nearly four. That his family couldn't see the exact same thing and feel the slightest bit of compassion for him was frightening.

When they entered their room, Brian did something that Justin hadn't been expecting. He was just about to toss the keys onto nearby table when Brian latched onto his face and pulled him into a breath stealing kiss. Somewhere during that intense meshing of lips, the jacket slipped from Justin's fingers and his hands came up to brush against the sides of Brian's throat.

Justin staggered backwards when the kiss ended and brought a shaky hand to his lips. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but still brought his free hand up to cup Brian's cheek, smoothing the pad of his thumb over his cheekbone.

"Justin, please," Brian whimpered, clutching at the blonde's hips. "I really need to feel something right now. Please."

There was a loud voice in Justin's head, insisting that he turn down Brian's plea. That no good could come of them having sex. It would only make things awkward between the two of them.

That was his head, though.

His heart was a completely different matter, though. Justin wanted nothing more than to be able to take away the pain he could see in Brian's eyes. He could almost feel the anguish vibrating off of Brian. 

So Justin took his hand from his lips and brought it up to hold Brian's other cheek. "If you need to feel something I'll do whatever I can to help you."

Brian sighed with relief, winding his arms around Justin's shoulders, pulling his body flush against the smaller man's. Justin felt his body tingle as their bodies touched from shoulders to thighs. It was strange. Over the past few days physical contact had been far from had been a very common thing. Sitting on the couch the two of them had ended up leaning against each other; platonically sharing a bed, yet still remaining curled around each other; hands brushing while on the plane ride over and countless other small incidents where their bodies came into contact. Yet suddenly Justin felt energized as Brian snaked his fingers up into his hair.

For several long minutes they remained in exactly that position, the two of them clutching at each other in the center of their hotel room. Then slowly Brian's head began to slither back until their foreheads touched and their noses brushed together. All the while Justin continued to hold Brian's face in his hands.

"This isn't pity, right?" Brian murmured rather pathetically, blinking his eyes shut which released a single tear down his cheek.

Justin shook his head slowly, his fingers moving lightly over Brian's cheeks. "It's not pity. I know that's the last thing you need right now. I would never do that to you anyway."

Brian sniffed quietly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

Deciding to take the lead, Justin ran the tip of his tongue along Brian's lower lip before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to that area of flesh. Brian's fingers tightened momentarily in his hair, pulling on the blonde strands with enough force to pull Justin's head back slightly.

Then suddenly Brian was the one leading the kiss.

Justin moaned at the desperation behind the kiss. He allowed his hands to fall away from Brian's face. Instead he brought his right hand down to hold the side of his throat while his left one slid still further to clutch at Brian's hip. Brian slid a leg between his, thigh rubbing up against his crotch making his already hard dick even harder.

"Oh god...." Justin moaned when they finally pulled apart to suck in quick lungfuls of air. "It's been a long time since I've been kissed like that."

"That's a real shame," Brian murmured against Justin's cheek, his right hand moving down to link their fingers together against Justin's hip. "You should be kissed like that often."

Justin couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face at Brian's words. "Well if you're the one doing the kissing I have no objections whatsoever."

Feeling suddenly bold, Justin wandered his right hand down Brian's chest, his fingertips playing over the buttons of the shirt. When Brian made no protest, he moved his hand down enough to toy with the buckle of his belt. Brian squeezed his fingers, nuzzling against the side of Justin's face. Taking that as a cue to continue, Justin fumbled with the buckle in an attempt to get it unfastened. But he was out of practice and it took a little while. The button and the fly were a lot easier since he was well practiced at doing that one-handed while trying to shave in the morning.

Brian gasped as Justin slipped inside his now opened jeans and boxers and wrapped around the half-hard cock within. Feeling slightly more confident since Brian wasn't cringing away from him, Justin began to fondle the stiffening organ, stimulating it to full erection. Brian's hand squeezed Justin's so tightly that the blonde was convinced that he was going to have fingerprint bruises all around his hand.

"Justin...." Brian trembled the words out, his body shuddering against the artist's.

Justin himself felt ready to burst, but he shook his head when he felt Brian's free hand moving towards the zipper of his jeans. "I'm fine. This is about you."

He held Brian's eyes as he said the words. Saw the uncertainty and disbelief in those hazel circles before passion swept that all away. Not wanting this to be a quick grope in the middle of their hotel room, Justin released Brian's cock and slowly began to guide him towards the bed nearest them. Since his eyes never strayed from Brian's, the only way he knew they had reached the bed was when the older man stumbled slightly. He held Brian upright, though, and lifted his free hand to the top button on Brian's shirt because the taller man still had a death grip on his left hand. With the same ease he'd used to unfasten Brian's jeans, Justin had the shirt open, revealing the white tank beneath.

"You need to let go of my hand now," Justin murmured, leaning upwards so that his lips brushed against Brian's. "I can't get your shirts off if you don't let go of my hand."

Brian hesitated for a moment before slowly relaxing his grip, just enough to allow Justin to slide his fingers through. Brian remained stock still, swaying slightly, as Justin slid the white button down over his shoulders. It slipped silently to the ground, catching only momentarily on Brian's downturned hands before a quick shake released it.

"You in there?" Justin said quietly as he brought his hands up to frame Brian's face.

The brunette blinked momentarily, staring at Justin as though he didn't know who he was for a moment. Then his right hand came up, brushing the feathery wisps of blonde hair from his eyes. "You are real, right? I'm not slipping away again?"

"I'm as real as can be," Justin promised him, stroking his thumbs over Brian's cheeks.

Brian nodded his head and took half a step back, clutching at the hem of his wifebeater before pulling it over his head in a single motion, forcing Justin to drop his hands away. "Make me believe that I'm real too."

Once again, Justin's hands rose up to Brian's face, holding it still as he dove upwards for a taste of Brian's lips. The two men fumbled like virgins as they struggled out of the rest of their clothes. Their heads nearly collided as they both reached down to attack the difficult zipper of Justin's jeans, but shared a quick kiss instead as Brian finally got the metal teeth to obey the pull of the zipper and fall away.

Naked finally, the two men stood only inches apart, fingertips gliding over chests, sides, shoulders, arms and stomachs while their eyes remained locked.

"You sure about this?" Justin asked, tracing the curve of Brian's hipbone with the tip of his finger. "We can still stop."

Brian's response was to lower himself onto the bed, sliding backwards until he was in the middle of it then leaned back on his elbows. Justin waited until he was settled before bringing his knees up to the edge of the mattress and climbing on. He watched Brian as he crawled forward, moving between the spread thighs. As he inched his way closer, he trailed his fingers up the length of Brian's legs, using his nails lightly when he reached the toned inner thighs. Brian arched up at that, a shuddering gasp escaping his lips.

All at once then, Justin realized that he didn't have anything. No lube and no condoms. He hadn't expected to be doing anything like this with Brian so he'd left it all at home.

"Pocket of my jeans," Brian mumbled as though he'd read Justin's thoughts. "They're somehow miraculously still in there after...."

Justin surged forward, catching Brian's lips as he faltered. "Don't think about that," he whispered against the trembling lips. "It doesn't matter right now. There's just you and me right now."

Brian nodded his head jerkily, pressing another frantic kiss to Justin's lips before he allowed to blonde to slip away. He managed to keep at least some part of his body touching Justin's the entire time. Hand, knee, calf, foot; one after the other while Justin searched through the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed for a few moments before coming up with the lube and a condom.

Setting the small tube of lube down next to Brian's hip, Justin ripped open the foil packet with his teeth and was about to slide it onto Brian's shaft when the other man suddenly grabbed his wrist. Carefully removing the latex disk from Justin's fingers, he rolled it on over the artist's erection, his eyes never once leaving Justin's.

"Brian...?"

The brunette said nothing, but instead picked lube and handed it to Justin. He then leaned back once again, pressing his feet flat against the mattress and drawing them back so that his legs fell open wide, revealing not only the vulnerable knot of flesh, but just how much Brian actually trusted him. It was a trust that Justin would do nothing to break.

Justin was very careful as he stretched Brian's opening; first one finger then two, scissoring them to relax the tight muscles. Never actually having been the one on top, Justin was hesitant, not wanting to hurt Brian in any way.

Both men cried out as Justin slowly pushed the head of his cock past the first ring of muscles. He went slow, drawing the motion out and giving Brian time to adjust as he carefully eased himself all the way in. Brian was panting by the time slid in entirely, his chest heaving rapidly. Desperately trying to keep his lower body still, Justin leaned his upper body over Brian's, wanting to feel Brian's lips against his own.

Their kisses were light, teasing, lips barely brushing together. It continued on like that until Brian began to flutter his internal muscles around Justin's dick causing the blonde to gasp loudly. Justin was still somewhat hesitant as he started to thrust, desperate not to cause Brian any pain. He wanted Brian to feel only pleasure. Only peace.

He accomplished that, too, many long minutes later when the pair shuddered out their orgasms many long minutes later. Justin slid bonelessly on top of Brian, uncaring of the mess that squished between their stomachs. 

Underneath his ear, he could hear Brian's heart pounding madly. 

Proof that he was indeed alive.


	9. Made to be Broken

Brian woke up very slowly. It took him a moment to realize that there was a body pressed up against him. A naked body. Brian tensed and would have panicked until he felt familiar fingers brushing through his hair.

Justin's fingers.

Blinking his eyes open, Brian found himself staring into Justin's half lidded blue eyes. "Morning, Bri. You sleep okay?"

It took a moment for his mind to process the words, but when they did he nodded his head. "No dreams. First time that's happened."

"I'm glad," Justin murmured as he continued to run his fingers lazily through the hair at the nape of Brian's neck. "You look better now that you've had a full night's sleep."

Brian said nothing but pressed himself still closer to Justin. He curled himself around the blonde, wanting to feel every inch of Justin's skin against his own. It amazed him just how comfortable he felt with Justin. With the exception of Ben, Brian usually hated all the cuddling or any type of lounging after sex, but when Justin started to roll away Brian found himself on the verge of panic.

"I just need to run to the bathroom really quick," Justin told him as he wiggled away.

Reluctantly, Brian released him, allowing his body to flop over onto his stomach once Justin's body was no longer holding him up. He reached over and latched onto Justin's pillow, pulling it up against his body and inhaling the scent. With a loud sigh, Brian's eyes slid shut and he relaxed into the mattress.

_"Let me up!" Brian cried, his voice strained._

_"That's not happening, Mr. Kinney," a disjointed voice said._

_"Let. Me. Up."_

_A blinding flash of pain started in his side then quickly moved through his entire body. Brian screamed, trying to curl away from the pain, but it was everywhere all at once and there was nothing he could do._

_"You're here for the duration, Mr. Kinney. You might as well get used to it."_

A hand on his arm brought a new scream from Brian. He rolled away from the touch and then suddenly the ground gave out beneath him and he smacked his head against a sharp corner.

"Brian!"

"Jus...." Brian moaned, curling in on himself and clutching at his head.

Instinctively, Brian flinched when he felt hands on him, but he forced himself to relax because he knew that it was Justin. When Justin wound his arms around him, Brian relaxed completely, molding himself to the slighter frame.

"That must have been one doozy," Justin murmured, his fingers lightly dancing over the newly developing tender spot on his forehead. "How's your head?"

Brian was about to make a smart comment but then Justin turned his attention to his temples and he let out a careful sigh. Instead he carefully rolled over onto his back, staring up at Justin's concerned face as he settled himself on the carpet. Brian brought a hand up to his forehead in an attempt to suss out the extent of his injury. Which proved to be very minimal. There was no blood, but it was incredibly tender which meant there was a bruise.

"If this keeps up I'm going to start investing in sleeping pills," Brian grumbled, scrubbing a hand over the left, unbruised, side of his face. "I just want to sleep without any of this shit."

Leaning down, Justin pressed his lips to Brian's in a very tender kiss. "Sleeping pills won't help any. They'll just make it harder for you to wake up when you're having a nightmare."

"Which would be a bad thing," Brian mumbled as he rolled over the rest of the way so that he was curled up with his head on Justin's lap. "Do you think a blow to the head would work?"

"A shower might help, though, for the moment," Justin suggested as he moved his fingers through Brian's hair. "It'll help you clear your head if nothing else."

"And do I get some company?"

Justin grinned down at him, the smile lighting up his entire face. "Do you want some company?"

"Some company would be good," Brian agreed, lifting a hand up to brush his fingers against the underside of Justin's jaw. The corners of his lips tilted upwards slightly as Justin dipped his head down to brush his lips against Brian's fingertips.

The pair lingered on the floor for a little while longer before Brian eased himself to a seated position. He felt a little dizzy, but was able to shake the sensation off rather quickly. Brian climbed slowly to his feet, using the small nightstand that stood between the beds as leverage.

"We could probably switch rooms," Brian suggested as he swiveled around to hold a hand out to Justin to help him up. "Get one with just one bed."

The smile didn't waver from Justin's face, but he arched an eyebrow as he latched onto Brian's outstretched hand. "Does this mean we're going to be sharing a bed on a regular basis?"

"I sleep better when you're there," Brian said quietly, his eyes darting everywhere but to Justin's.

"I sleep better when you're there too," Justin admitted with a half-hearted shrug.

The shower was complete bliss. The warm water pounded down around him, soaking into his skin, while Justin massaged shampoo into his scalp. Brian was doing the exact same to the blonde, tilting his head back so that he had access to Justin's wonderfully kissable lips. The small confines of the shower forced their bodies very close together and the suds reduced much of the friction and made slipping and sliding that much more enjoyable.

It took some careful wiggling, but Brian got Justin turned around so that he was the one under the showerhead. The artist yelped into his mouth as the shampoo poured down over his face and clutched at him tightly. Brian was about to pull Justin out from under the downpour when the blonde beat him to it. Dropping back against the wall, Justin forced Brian forward so that he was the one with shampoo running down his face. Brian squeezed his eyes shut and couldn't help but grin when he felt Justin's abdomen hitching with restrained giggles.

"That was not fair," Brian smirked once he back out from under the showerhead.

"And it was anymore fair when you did it to me?" was Justin's response. The blonde pushed Brian back so that he was forced against the wall, freeing himself from the sudsy downpour as well.

"I'm just paying you back for the cream cheese you shoved in my face yesterday," Brian defended himself. "Fair's fair."

The two of them finished rinsing off, wet hands sliding bubbles from equally soaked skin, before they exited the shower.

"We've been invited to my grandmother's for dinner today," Justin mentioned as casually as he was able while he patted himself dry.

Brian paused in the middle of scrubbing his stomach and arched an eyebrow in Justin's direction. "We're having dinner at your grandmother's? When did this happen?"

"When she invited us yesterday," Justin mumbled into his shoulder as he reached behind him to wipe at the droplets of water clinging to his shoulder blades. "She wasn't going to pass up the chance to have me over for Thanksgiving dinner."

"And why am I going?"

Justin pursed his lips slightly and Brian couldn't help but grin. "Because I happened to mention that I was in town with a friend and that it wouldn't be fair to make him spend Thanksgiving alone."

"Trust me, Sunshine, I don't think you want me going," Brian murmured only to have Justin reach up and cup his cheek. "I'm terrible company right now."

"Not so bad," Justin told him, his smile returning.

For a little while, Brian was able to forget just how horrible his life was. He and Justin got dressed then made their way down to the hotel restaurant to have breakfast. Brian wasn't exactly hungry, but he was definitely enjoying watch Justin scarf down a plateful of pancakes topped with whipped cream and strawberries. It hadn't taken Brian long to discover that the younger man was bottomless. The fact that Justin was still so slim amazed the hell outta him.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Justin asked as he speared the last few pieces of pancake with his fork.

Brian started at the question, his coffee cup jerking in his hand. "Wh--what do you mean?"

"This is your trip, Brian," Justin said around a mouthful of pancakes. "You decide what we do. What about Gus?"

"Gus doesn't even know me," Brian sighed as he stared deep into the black depths of his coffee. "I'm just a character in a story to him, not a real person."

"Then change that. Ask Lindsay if you can see him. You deserve the chance to get to know your son," Justin said passionately, dropping the fork down onto his plate. "Gus deserves to know his father. The two of you have already lost so much time. If Lindsay is as good a friend as you said, she'll understand that. She'll also do what's best for her son if she's any kind of mother."

Brian could only stare at Justin in wonderment. Every word that had left his mouth had been said with such conviction that Brian could only shake his head and wonder how Justin managed to contain so much emotion in his small frame. It was almost enough to give Brian the confidence that he needed to face his so-called family for a second time. And if Justin's words weren't, his son was. Brian wanted to know his son. He wanted to prove, at least to himself, that he was a better father than his own had ever been.

"I don't even know if Lindz and Mel live in the same house," Brian said after a while.

"That's why we find a phone book," Justin said logically. "We look them up and I drive you over. Then you can meet Gus."

Brian snorted, leaning back into his chair. "You make it all sound so simple."

"That's my grandmother's eternal optimism speaking," Justin grinned, scrunching his nose up momentarily for emphasis. "I figured you could use some of it right now."

Half an hour later, when they pulled up in front of the munchers' house Brian was definitely in need of that optimism. It was the same house they'd been living in before Gus was born, but it was obvious that they'd put the insurance money they'd received from his "death" to use in renovating the place.

"Nothing will happen if we spend all day sitting in here," Justin said quietly as he turned off the jeep. They'd been parked in front of the house for several minutes and Brian had yet to make any move to leave the vehicle. "The least you can do is try."

Brian's response died on his lips as he saw a little boy come bounding down the sidewalk, arms outstretched as though he was attempting to fly. Gus was apparently still enjoying his superhero phase while Lindsay trailed behind, laughing at her son's antics. The pair were still several houses away when Brian gathered his nerves and slid out of the jeep. He glanced over at Justin, gathering courage, before he shut the door and moved to stand on the sidewalk.

"Brian!" Lindsay gasped when she finally noticed him.

"Hey, Lindz," Brian murmured, once again feeling very unsure of himself. That feeling only increased when he realized that Gus had stopped his attempts at flight and was staring up at him in awe. Pursing his lips, Brian crouched down so that he was at Gus' eye level. "Hello, Gus."

"'Lo," the little boy said shyly. "You look like my daddy."

Brian squeezed his eyes shut tight, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that. He wanted to tell Gus the truth-- that he was his daddy --but it was ultimately Lindsay's decision. She was Gus' mother and knew how he'd react to the news best. And even though she'd been somewhat supportive the day before, there was no telling what Melanie had been able to convince her of since then. For all he knew--

"That's because he is your daddy."

Lindsay's quiet statement shocked Brian to no end. At best he'd hoped that Lindsay would tell Gus that he was a friend of hers. After all, she didn't have any real proof that he was who he said he was. For all she knew he could have been some kind of imposter like most of their friends wanted to believe.

Gus, however, wasn't convinced as easily. The little boy pursed his lips over to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. "How come you haven't been here? Don't you like me?

"I love you more than anything, Gus," Brian murmured, blinking away the tears he could feel forming in his eyes. "And I've wanted to be here from the moment you were born. But I... I couldn't."

"Did Magneto have you locked up somewhere?" Gus demanded, perking up. He began bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet while he waited for Justin's answer.

"Something like that," the older of the two Kinney men said, a grin playing on his lips. Mikey had definitely made sure that Gus received his comic book education.

"Then how did you escape?"

Brian gave a conspiratorial wink. "I had a sidekick who came and broke me out. He beat Magneto with his superpowers and broke me out of his prison."

It wasn't a complete truth, but it was as close as Brian could manage to it at the moment. Justin was definitely a superhero of sorts. No one else would have done for him what Justin had. They would have just called the police to let them deal with him. 

"Is yer sidekick Robin?" Gus asked excitedly, his bouncing becoming even more pronounced.

"Gus, sweety, why don't you go inside? I need to talk to your daddy for a moment," Lindsay said before Brian could reveal the identity of his sidekick.

"Moooommmm...." Gus whined, casting a full fledged pout in her direction.

"Now."

With a final scowl aimed at his mother, Gus stomped off towards the house. Brian remained in a crouched position until his son was halfway down the walkway to the house then stood up in front of Lindsay.

"Thank you, Lindz," Brian said sincerely, smiling slightly. "You didn't have to do that. I wouldn't have held it against you."

Lindsay frowned, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. "Just tell me that I made the right decision. That you're not going to go back to playing dead."

"I wasn't playing dead," Brian said solemnly, ducking his head down.

"Then where have you been for the past three and a half years?"

Brian wished that he had an answer for her, mainly so that he could have one for himself. Brian was desperate to know what had happened to him in the time he couldn't remember. How he had gotten the scar, the tattoo and why he kept getting terrifying nightmares every time he closed his eyes. Brian knew that those nightmares had something to do with what had happened to him, but at the moment they scared him too much for him to even attempt to piece them together.

"I don't know where I've been, Lindz," Brian said honestly, peering up at her from under his eyelashes. "I turned up on Justin's porch in New York a few days ago and I have no idea how I got there or where I'd been between leaving a meeting in San Francisco and getting there. It's just one big blank spot."

"Who's Justin?"

Glancing over his shoulder at Justin who was still seated in the driver's seat of the jeep, Brian jerked his head, motioning for the other man to join him on the sidewalk. Brian waited until Justin reached his side and relaxed into the hand that appeared on the small of his back. "Lindsay Peterson, this is Justin Taylor, my superhero sidekick. Justin Taylor, this is Lindsay Peterson, my last failed attempt at a hetero relationship."

"Brian!" Lindsay yelped, smacking him on the arm. "Of all the ways you could introduce me, you chose that?"

"It's true, isn't it?" Brian defended himself, grinning as Lindsay's cheeks reddened.

"God, Brian!" Lindsay moaned as she hid her face behind her hands.

"MOMMY! I WANNA COOKIE!"

Lindsay dropped her hands down to her side and cast Brian a half-hearted smirk. "Our son is very demanding. Did you and Justin want to come inside? The cookies are technically homemade-- I used a mix. You could get to know your son better and you could tell me more about what the fuck is going on where we won't be risking frostbite."

"What about your worse half?" Brian questioned, not quite up to facing Melanie yet.

"Melanie will just have to deal with it," Lindsay informed him. "You're Gus' father no matter what happened to you."

Brian was convinced that the only thing keeping him from toppling over was Justin's hand on his back. It was all too easy. Brian had expected to have to battle the munchers to get anywhere near Gus. Even before Gus had been born, Melanie had been doing her best to exclude him from every aspect of Lindsay's pregnancy. For the entire month before he'd left for San Francisco she'd been pressuring him to sign over his paternal rights. In the end she'd settled for him signing the million dollar insurance policy.

"MOMMY! COOKIE!"

"Duty calls," Lindsay chirped as she began to head towards the house. She stopped halfway and turned back around, facing the two men who hadn't moved from the sidewalk. "I mean it, Brian. I want you and Justin to come inside. There's a lot that I want to know and there's a lot that you probably want to know."

"I can go," Justin volunteered, motioning with a hand back towards the jeep.

Brian spun around instantly, latching onto Justin's wrist. "No. Not again. You're staying this time."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Brian could see how stunned Lindsay was by his reaction, but he didn't care. He'd made a mistake letting Justin leave the previous day and Brian didn't want to risk it happening a second time. As long as Justin was there he knew that he wouldn't get sucked up anywhere.


	10. Made to be Broken

"So what kind of superpowers do you have?" Gus asked Justin, his eyes still focused on Brian who was currently being shown every one of his son's toys.

Caught off guard, Justin wasn't sure how to respond at first. "Well, I um...."

"His eyes shoot out beams of sun," Brian answered for him, grinning over at the blonde. He laughed outright when Gus bounded to his feet and rushed behind the couch only to emerge a few seconds later with an action figure.

Justin had no idea why Brian was suddenly laughing so much, but he loved the sound of it. Brian obviously recognized the action figure, but to Justin it was just some muscled guy in blue tights.

"Yer Cyclops!" Gus shouted excitedly as he waved the toy in Justin's face. "Cyclops saved my daddy! Thank you!"

The words hadn't even left Gus' mouth when Justin found himself with an armful of ecstatic three year old. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't a superhero. All he'd done was let Brian sleep on his couch, nothing worthy of the little boy's praise.

"Come on, Sonnyboy, you're gonna strangle poor Sunshine," Brian coaxed, his hands latching onto Gus' hips and pulling his son back into his lap.

Gus twisted his head around so that he could see his father's face. "Sunshine? I thought he was Cyclops."

"He's a distant cousin of Cyclops'," Brian explained to him.

Gus seemed to accept that and wiggled himself into a more comfortable position on his father's lap. "How did you know where my daddy was?"

"Gus, sweetheart, I think it's time for your nap," Lindsay interrupted, saving Justin from having to think up an elaborate answer to satisfy the little boy.

"Mommy!" Gus cried, positively panicked at the prospect of having to go away.

Lindsay gave her son a no nonsense look. "Gus, now. We're going to your grandparents for dinner so you need to have a nap now."

"But daddy...."

"You'll see your daddy again," Lindsay promised him.

Gus pouted, but nodded his head just the same. Clambering to his feet, he turned around and wound his arms around Brian's neck, hugging him tight. "Love you, daddy."

"I love you too, Sonnyboy," Brian murmured into Gus' hair.

The embrace continued for several long minutes before Brian slowly released his son. Gus didn't seem any more eager to be away from his father and lingered for a few moments before trudging towards the stairs. They all watched the little boy as he slowly made his way up the stairs.

"All right, Lindz, why did you send Gus away?" Brian asked once he heard a door shut upstairs. "What's going on?"

"There's some things we need to talk about that I'd rather Gus not hear," Lindsay informed him.

A few seconds later, Justin found himself being pulled towards Brian who was sitting a few feet away from him. He wiggled closer, allowing himself to be pulled between his lover's legs. Even though he didn't know much about the history of Brian's eclectic family, but he'd figured out that Brian was the alpha male. His "death" would have altered the whole make-up of the family.

"You know about Ben and Michael, right?" Lindsay asked, tilting her head so that she could see Brian who had his face pressed into the corner of Justin's throat.

There was a blast of warm air on Justin's neck as Brian let out a mirthless laugh. "Yeah. I caught that. My lover and my best friend are together."

Justin was shocked by the amount of venom in Brian's voice and brought his hands to rest over Brian's which were folded on his stomach. "Relax, Bri. There's no need to attack."

And Brian squeezed him tighter, for a few seconds, then let out a shuddering breath. "Sorry, Lindsay. It's a touchy subject. Two weeks ago I was making plans to move with Ben to New York. Now.... Now everything's all fucked up. I missed the first three and a half years of my son's life."

"But you didn't even want to be involved in Gus' life," Lindsay said quietly.

"Gus didn't exist then," Brian sighed as he linked his fingers with Justin's. "He wasn't a real person. He was just some little blurry image in a sonogram."

His position in front of Brian gave Justin the distinct impression that he was being used as a shield. Not that he minded. If Brian needed him to be there to feel safe then he'd stay there. Brian had enough to deal with without feeling exposed and vulnerable on top of it.

"I'm glad that you want to be a part of his life," Lindsay said at last. "But you need to understand what it's been like for the rest of us thinking that you were dead."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Brian said defensively, his grip on Justin's waist tightening. "It's not like I just decided to fake my death while I was in San Francisco. Something happened to me, Lindsay, and I don't know what the fuck it was or what happened to me."

A very tense silence followed. Behind him, Justin could feel Brian trembling and while he wanted nothing more than to take the older man in his arms he knew that Brian didn't want to show that kind of weakness in front of Lindsay. At the moment she might seem to be on their side, but that could switch at any moment.

"How was the body identified?" Justin asked when it became obvious that neither of them were going to start talking again. "All of the articles I read said that the body was very badly burned and well... Brian's not."

Lindsay shook her head as though banishing a sudden thought from it before answering. "Dental records. The police traced the car back to Brian through the rental agency and the police here forwarded his dental records so that they could identify him. They said everything matched up-- that the... the body was Brian's ==so they cremated him and sent the remains back to Pittsburgh."

"So none of you actually saw whether or not it was me?" Brian demanded, his voice somewhere between shock and anger.

"You were on the other side of the country," Lindsay defended herself. "And do you really think that any of us would have been able to see you like that? The way that they described it.... None of us could bear the thought of having that image of you as our last one. The Pittsburgh PD showed Ben a picture, though. Your right hand wasn't so bad and you could still see your tattoo."

Justin knew what tattoo she was talking about having seen it for the first time the night before as Brian slept curled around him.

"So there's no way to tell if that's really me anymore," Brian said, leaning his cheek against the top of Justin's head.

"You're you," Justin said automatically. "You're not some double and you're not some clone. You're the original Brian Kinney."

Brian said nothing, but burrowed his face into Justin's throat while he attempted to compose himself. Justin let him stay there, sliding his hands along Brian's forearms in an attempt to soothe him because as surreal as the conversation was for him, it was even more so for Brian since it was his life that was being discussed.

"Did they tell you anything about the accident that wasn't in the paper?" Justin asked when it became obvious that Brian wasn't going to say anything else at the moment.

"I'm not the best person to ask," Lindsay told him honestly. "I really don't know much. I went into labour the next day then everything with Gus.... Ben would know, though. The police talked to him the most."

"Lindsay, I'm home!" Melanie called as the front door of the house was opened.

Behind him, Justin felt Brian tense and immediately turned to face the newcomer. As soon as she came around the corner and into the living room, Justin saw exactly what it was about Melanie that made her so feared. Even before seeing Brian she stood in a defensive posture; on guard even in her own home.

"Mel, hey," Lindsay greeted as she rose from the couch and went to embrace her partner. "This is Justin Taylor. He's an artist from upstate New York who--"

"--brought me back to the Pitts," Brian finished for her, turning his head as well.

The transformation that came over the woman's face startled Justin. Her features darkened and before she could even take a full step in their direction, Justin was on his feet and standing between her and Brian. From what Brian had told him, Melanie Marcus was "a vicious dyke lawyer" who wanted nothing more than to erase his presence from Lindsay's life.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Melanie growled. "Please tell me you didn't let him anywhere near our son."

"In case you've forgotten, half of Gus' DNA is mine," Brian pointed out as he came to hover at Justin's shoulder. The blonde took a half step towards Brian, blocking Melanie's path to him. "He's my son too and I have every right to see him."

"Oh please!" the petite lawyer snorted with a roll of her eyes. "You have no proof that you're really Brian and I'd rather not excuse Gus to some fraud."

"And you have no proof that he's not Brian," Justin said defensively. "You've gotta admit that you're more than a little biased in the whole situation. You don't like Brian and were probably thrilled when you found out that he was dead."

Melanie's glare was now focused on him. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm exactly who Lindsay said I was. Justin Taylor," he informed her, glaring at her across the distance that separated them. "I'm a friend of Brian's."

"Don't tell me you bought his whole song and dance routine," she groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't know what he told you, kid, but--"

"He didn't tell me anything," Justin interrupted Melanie, taking a step in her direction. "I have eyes. There's no way Brian could fake these things. So get over yourself and look accept the facts."

Melanie obviously wasn't used to having people stand up to her because her mouth dropped open and she stared at Justin completely flabbergasted. "Get the fuck out of my house!" she eventually settled on, stalking to the front door and yanking it open.  
"Momma, no!" Gus shouted as he came bounding down the stairs. "Don't make Daddy go away!"

The four adults watched in shock as Gus bolted from the bottom of the stairs and over to Brian, latching onto his father's legs. The little boy was sobbing into thigh, soaking his jeans and Brian seemed on the verge of a breakdown as well. He had his head tilted to the ceiling and Justin caught sight of a single tear sliding down Brian's cheek.

"Gus, sweetheart, come here," Lindsay cooed as she knelt down next to her son.

"No! I'm staying with my daddy!" the boy insisted, clutching still tighter to Brian.

Justin could feel his heart clenching at the scene before him and was shocked to see Melanie with her scowl still in place. He then met Brian's eyes, offering him a sad smile as Brian leaned over to scoop Gus up in his arms. Once he was high enough, the little boy clung tightly to his father's neck, snuffling quietly.

"Hush up, Sonnyboy, it's okay," Brian murmured into the unruly mop of chestnut hair.

"Don't want you to go away," Gus whimpered, his small legs winding themselves around Brian's torso. "Wha' if you don't come back?"

Brian's left hand, which had been at the center of Gus' back before, came up to cup the back of his head as he turned his face into his son's hair. "I promise I'll come back, Gus."

"Really?" Gus sniffled as he brought his head back so that he could see Brian's face. Seen in profile so close together, it was easy to tell that the two were father and son. And both wore similar expressions of agony.

"Really," Brian confirmed, leaning his forehead against his son's. "Now go see your Mom."

Gus put up a token protest but allowed himself to be handed over to Lindsay where he immediately burrowed his face against her throat. Justin immediately made his way to Brian's side in a show of silent support.

"This isn't over, Mel," Brian ground out as he guided Justin towards the front door. "You're not gonna keep me from my son."

Melanie said nothing and Justin made sure to match her glare with one of his own as he slouched into his coat. Her viciousness may have baffled his mind, but he wasn't going to allow her to hurt Brian if he could stop it. His friend had suffered enough without her interference.

"Love you, Daddy!" Gus called as Brian opened the front door. Lindsay had moved over to the stairs so that Gus could keep his father in his line of sight.

Brian faltered slightly then turned around to face his son. "I love you too, Gus."

Justin squeezed Brian's arm when the older man showed no sign of moving towards the door after that. Being an observer was hard enough so Justin couldn't imagine what it was like for Brian to have to walk away from his son in those circumstances. The door slammed shut behind them once Justin was able to drag Brian out onto the porch, but Brian kept up his stoic endurance.

Until they were both seated in the jeep.

In the jeep, Brian seemed to collapse. He sunk back into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Justin wanted to comfort him, but he knew that it would be better if they got back to the hotel first. Brian undoubtedly felt vulnerable enough as it was.

They were a few blocks away when Justin felt a hand cover his over the gear shifter. Justin spread his fingers apart so that Brian's fingers slid between his then gave them a slight squeeze. He didn't say anything, but let Brian's hand stay right where it was for the rest of the ride back to the hotel. After the vicious attack he had endured at the women's house, Justin knew that he had to be hurting.

"Do you think I can skip out of that dinner," Brian murmured as the entered their hotel room. He made a beeline for the nearest bed, sprawling himself across it and clutching a pillow to his chest. "I'd rather just be alone."

Justin followed Brian, stretching himself out next to the taller man, close to but not touching. "Does that include me? Do I have to go away too?"

Brian released the pillow and reached over to drape his arm across Justin's chest. "Please don't."

"I won't."

Brian's entire body seemed to relax then, his muscles going lax as he allowed his body to sag against Justin's. Justin slowly brought his hand up, sliding his fingers through Brian's hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. He just wanted Brian to relax. After what he had just been through Brian needed all the support he could get. And Justin was going to offer him all that he could and then some. He wanted everything to be all right for Brian.

After a while, Justin heard the now familiar wheeze as Brian drifted off to sleep. He hoped that this time Brian would be able to sleep without any nightmares. With everything else that was going on, Brian deserved to find some measure of escape in his sleep. It was pretty much the only time he would get the chance he would get in the coming days to find any measure of peace.

Justin didn't even realize that he'd fallen asleep until he heard someone knocking on the door. He was immediately confused. They hadn't ordered any room service and as far as Justin knew no one knew where they were staying. Not even his grandmother.

"Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney, are you in there?"

But apparently someone did know where they were staying.

"Just a moment please," Justin called out as he carefully rolled out from under Brian's arm and off the bed, hoping that the knocking would stop before it woke Brian up. The other man was still sleeping peacefully and he wanted it to stay that way. Scrubbing his hands over his face, Justin hurried over to the door before the knocking started up again. With one last shake of his head to clear any remaining muddle-headedness, Justin opened the door only to find himself face to face with a pair of uniformed police officers. "I'm Justin Taylor. Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Brian Kinney," the older of the two officers said. "We were under the impression that the two of you were sharing a hotel room."

"Can I ask why you're looking for Brian?" Justin asked, moving out into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

"Sir, could you please tell us of Mr. Kinney is in the hotel room?" the man prompted, his voice brooking no argument.

Still, Justin wasn't inclined to give in so easily. He was opening his mouth, intent on telling them that Brian wasn't there when the man in question called out from inside the hotel room.

"Justin? You in here?"

Unable to deny it this time, Justin fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Before opening the door, Justin glared over his shoulder at the two police officers. "Don't even think about hurting him." Then he opened the door and stepped inside. "I'm right here, Bri."

"Who was at the...?" Brian's voice trailed off, the question left unfinished, as he caught sight of the men standing behind Justin. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Justin said honestly as he continued to move towards Brian, not liking the panic he saw in the hazel eyes. "They just showed up and--"

Both men shoved past Justin as though he wasn't even there, advancing on Brian. "Mr. Kinney, we have papers here indicating that you are to be placed in the psychiatric ward of Allegheny General Hospital until a doctor can ascertain your mental stability."


	11. Made to be Broken

At first Brian couldn't even process the words. He couldn't wrap his mind around them, around the fact that these men meant to lock him up in a psych ward. He was perfectly sane. His memory wasn't the greatest, but that didn't mean he needed to be locked up with the local nut jobs.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Justin growled as he snatched the papers from the police officer's hand. "Who the fuck has the authority to have Brian locked away?"

"Judge Matthews signed the order. We are simply here to collect the patient," the older of the two officers explained. "Now will you come peacefully, Mr. Kinney, or will we be forced to restrain you?"

"What, no straight jacket?" Brian snorted, his eyes frantically searching out Justin's and holding his gaze.

"That is up to your doctor to decide, not us," the officer informed him. "So I will ask you again, Mr. Kinney, will you come peacefully or do we have to--"

Brian was on his feet in an instant, arms crossed over his chest. "You're not putting me in handcuffs."

"Then put your shoes on and follow us."

Scowling, Brian attempted to keep his fear from showing on his face and continued to maintain his defensive posture. "Do you think you could at least give us your names so that I don't have to start calling you Burt and Ernie?"

Both officers glared at him, but Brian merely arched an eyebrow. 

After several tense moments, the one who had been doing all of the talking finally relented. "I'm Detective Stockwell and this is my partner Detective Rikert."

"Not quite Bert and Ernie," Brian smirked, knowing full well that he was doing nothing to endear himself to the two police officers.

The cops moved towards the door and a second later Justin was pressed against his side, hands framing his face as the blonde forced his face down towards his. Brian didn't even realize how badly he was shaking until he felt how steady Justin's hands were. He immediately wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding Justin was tight as he was able as he attempted to calm his nerves.

"You're coming with me, right?" Brian said against the side of Justin's head. 

Brian hated the fact that he sounded so needy, but with everything that had happened in the past few days, Brian didn't trust the police officers. He didn't trust the judge who had signed the papers committing him and he certainly didn't trust the doctors. Brian was terrified by the notion that once he got to the hospital he'd be given some drugs and wake up to discover that another four years had passed.

"I'll stay with you for as long as they'll let me and even then I'll stick around longer," Justin assured him, turning his head to brush a kiss to the corner of Brian's mouth.

"I'll hold you to that," Brian murmured, stepping back as he began to search for his boots. 

He had no desire to go with them, but he feared being handcuffed and restrained even more. Brian wanted to be able to fight back if it came to it. Too many of his nightmares revolved around his inability to fight back and protect himself. Nightmares that only eased when he slept wound around Justin's smaller body.

Brian swore under his breath when he reached down to collect one of his Prada boots and saw that his hand was once again trembling. He squeezed his fingers into a tight fist and waited until that had ceased shaking as well before snatching the shoe off the floor. Justin was right behind him as he stood, hand cupping his cheek and drawing him into a tender kiss. His boot forgotten, Brian wound his arms around Justin's shoulders and held the blonde tight against his body.

"I'll do whatever I can to get you out of there," Justin said against his lips as they parted for breath. "I won't let them hurt you again."

Brian could only nod his head, not trusting his voice in that moment.

"We need to go now, Mr. Kinney," the officer said, poking his head back into the room.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Brian grumbled as he reluctantly extracted himself from Justin's arms.

"We will restrain you if you make any attempt to evade us," Stockwell informed him, his voice very hard and dark. "We're simply following our orders."

The words "From who?" were dancing on the tip of Brian's tongue, but he kept silent. He didn't want to risk them not allowing Justin to go with him. Brian didn't want to be separated from his lover. Not when Justin was all that was keeping him from freaking out at that moment.

"We'll be out there in a minute," Justin assured the cop.

Stockwell furrowed his brows. "There's no need for you to come. We're only here for Mr. Kinney."

"Well I go where Brian goes," Justin said as he slipped his coat on. "So that means I'm staying with him as long as possible."

Neither officer looked too enthused about having to bring Justin along. That, more than anything, worried Brian. He didn't want to consider what would have happened if Justin hadn't been there. Brian had visions of himself being thrown into the mental ward never to be seen again. There was no way he could even be sure that it wasn't what had happened three and a half years ago. He'd been alone, half a continent away from any family, so it would have been very easy to hide him away in a loony bin without anyone finding out about it.

Once in the back of the police cruiser, Brian slumped against Justin. He didn't care how it looked to the cops in the front seat, he just wanted to be near Justin for as long as possible. Brian knew full well that once he was locked up it would be a long time before he saw Justin again.

If ever.

"My grandmother is part of the country club set," Justin whispered after a while. "She has to know some lawyers. I'll call her once we find out what's going on with you I'll call her. I'll get you out of there as soon as possible."

Brian turned his head slightly so that his forehead was pressed to the side of Justin's throat. "You do realize that today is Thanksgiving and the courthouse won't be open till Monday."

"Well someone got those papers that say you're mentally unfit signed today and everything is supposed to be closed," Justin pointed out as he draped an arm over Brian's shoulders. "There's gotta be some way to get you released by tomorrow morning."

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Brian remained silent. Regardless of anything he did at the moment he was going to find himself locked up tight in the psych ward of Allegheny General with the other nut jobs. If he was lucky he'd be out by Monday, if not he'd be in there indefinitely. All it would take was a straight jacket and some sedatives and the doctors there could transport him to any hospital in the world and he'd have no way of stopping them.

"We're here," Justin murmured, yanking Brian from his thoughts and bringing him back to the world around him. "You okay, babe?"

Despite himself, Brian snorted in amusement. "We sleep together once and you've already given me a pet name?"

"It slipped," Justin grinned as he reached between them to unfasten both their seat belts.

For those few seconds Brian had managed to forget just why he and Justin were being chauffeured around when they had a perfectly serviceable jeep in the hotel parking garage. Brian's mood sobered instantly as the door was opened by Rikert. Instinctively latching on to Justin's hand, Brian slid out of the vehicle and found himself standing before the main entrance of the hospital.

"Let's go," Stockwell barked as he rounded the front of the vehicle.

Still holding tight to Justin's hand, Brian followed the police detective into the hospital. Brian was slightly comforted by the fact that Stockwell had to stop to ask directions to the psych ward because that meant he hadn't been a part of locking up many people.

"So which one of them is Brian Kinney?" a doctor asked when the small party reached the designated part of the hospital.

"That'd be me, doc," Brian mumbled, stepping slightly away from Justin, but still not releasing his hand.

The middle-aged man nodded slightly, handing a clipboard towards Stockwell. "Very good. My name is Doctor Bledso and I'll be the one treating you as long as you're a patient here." Finished with his introduction, he turned to the two police officers. "If you could just sign this, detective...." The doctor checked things over once the cop had given him the clipboard back. "Thank you. Now, Mr. Kinney, if you'll follow me."

"I'm going with him," Justin said as the doctor turned towards a grated door. "I'm not leaving Brian until--"

"I'm sorry, but that's not permitted," the doctor cut him off. "This is a restricted ward and you're not on the cleared visitor list."

"Well then put me on it because I'm not leaving Brian alone here," the blonde informed Dr. Bledso, taking a half step forward so that he was standing in front of Brian. 

The balding doctor looked taken aback and immediately shook his head. "I cannot simply place you on the visitor list. Not in this ward of the hospital. It's a restricted area. If you'll excuse us, I'm going to take Brian to get situated in his room."

Brian knew that Justin would have continued to fight the doctor so he wound an arm around Justin's shoulders, pulling the blonde back against his chest. "Not now, Justin. You won't get anywhere," Brian murmured in his ear, praying that he'd get through to his lover.

Justin heaved several deep breaths then nodded his head tightly. "You'd better not hurt him."

"I assure you, young man, that is not our intention," Dr. Bledso assured him, smiling a patented placating doctor's smile. "We will take the best of care of Mr. Kinney."

To that the blonde mumbled something that Brian couldn't quite make out and turned himself in Brian's arms so that the two now stood facing each other, barely an inch separating them. And even though he knew that he shouldn't, Brian found himself touching his forehead to Justin's as he gently brushed a thumb over the artist's cheek.

"I'll be fine," he said quietly. "Just go back to the hotel and--"

"Not happening," Justin interrupted him with a firm shake of his head. "I'm getting you out of here just like I promised."

Knowing that it was pointless to argue with the stubborn blonde, Brian merely pressed a light kiss to his lips before stepping back and then around Justin.

"All right, Doc, let's get this over with."

Before he could move too far away, though, Justin latched onto his hand. He wasn't attempting to slow him down in any way, but was rather just trying to maintain some type of contact as long as possible. So Brian did just that, holding onto Justin's hand until their fingers slipped apart by distance. And despite trying to convince himself that he wasn't going to look back when the nurse buzzed them through to the psych ward itself, Brian turned his head to meet a pair of worried blue eyes.

Then he was through the door and couldn't see Justin any longer.

"Now I don't expect you'll be seeing that friend of yours any time soon," Dr. Bledso said in a clipped tone as he marched Brian down the corridor. "Or anyone that is not myself or one of the nurses for that matter. Perhaps in a week or so you will be allowed visitors but not before then."

"You must have a lot planned for me," Brian smirked, hoping to hide his nervousness from the doctor.

All too soon, Brian found out just why Justin wasn't allowed back there with him. The room he was escorted to had only a bed and a wooden chair as furnishings as well as what Brian assumed was a small bathroom behind the other door in the room. That wasn't what worried Brian because he hadn't expected the room to be extravagant in the least. No, what made Brian nervous were the straps attached to the rails at the middle and bottom of the bed.

"Now, if you will be so kind as to remove your clothes and change into the gown that is on the bed, a nurse will be in to give you your meds," Dr. Bledso ordered, nodding his head in the direction of the bed, but making no move to look at Brian as he spoke.

"And just how do you know that I need to take any meds?"

At last the doctor looked at him, arching an eyebrow. "The previous hospital you were a patient of faxed us a copy of your file when we received the order to commit you."

Panic was the furthest thing from Brian's mind at the moment. He was too shocked to even consider panicking. After a few frantic seconds, however, that shock gave way to anger. It was just one thing too many and Brian had had enough.

"What hospital?!" Brian demanded as he whirled about to face the doctor. "The last time I was in a hospital was when I had knee surgery when I was twenty-one. The only thing I was on there was pain meds so do you wanna try that again?"

"Brian Aiden Kinney, born May 25, 1971 here at Allegheny General. Mother Joan Kinney, nee Kimborough. Father Jack Kinney, deceased March 16, 2001...."

Brian barely registered the fact that his father was dead and instead focused on the fact that there was no mention of his own supposed death. As far as Brian knew birth and death information went side by side on those kinds of forms. The doctor didn't seem the least bit conflicted about whether or not Brian had ever been dead. Brian couldn't help but wonder just where his death certificate was and if there were any other forms that supported his supposed death three and a half years before.

"So as you see, Mr. Kinney, I can assure you that this is your file," Dr. Bledso said once he had finished reading all the important information from the file. "Now if you would be so kind as to change into the hospital gown I can have a nurse come in to give you your meds."

"Then if it's all the same to you, I'll stay in my own clothes and not have the nurse come in to give me some meds," Brian said as he stretched out on the bed, arms folded behind his head. "I'll stay here and let you play your little mind games, but I won't take any medication you try to give me."

Brian knew that it was foolish to hope that he could get the doctor to agree with him, but he hadn't expected what came next. With a curt nod, Dr. Bledso strode over to the door, opened it, and gestured for someone to enter. The nurse Brian had been expecting was instead a pair of orderlies who moved directly towards the bed. Brian had only just managed to sit up when there were four large hands pushing him back down and restraining him to the bed using the thick canvas straps Brian had first seen.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Brian shouted as he struggled to get free before he was tied down to the narrow hospital bed.

"My apologies, Mr. Kinney, but this is necessary since you will not cooperate," Dr. Bledso said from what seemed very far away.

Finally, despite all of Brian's frantic kicking and squirming, the two hulking orderlies had him strapped to the bed. The only comfort Brian had at the moment was that he was still fully dressed, even down to his expensive Prada boots. It offered him minute protection for the time being, but Brian knew that would not last.

"Once you learn to cooperate, Mr. Kinney, the restraints will come off. Until then we will do what we must to ensure that you receive the proper treatment," Dr. Bledso explained as he accepted a needle from a nurse who must have arrived while Brian was being restrained. "This will help you sleep and in the morning we will begin your evaluation."

Brian tried to jerk his arm free when the doctor began to push the left sleeve of his shirt up with his free hand. Bledso merely gave him a stern look and pushed the sleeve up regardless. With each second that passed, Brian could feel his panic growing more and more. He strained against the canvas straps, pulling so hard he began to lose circulation in his hands. It didn't do any good, though, because Dr. Bledso still stuck the needle into his arm and pushed down the plunger, releasing the chemicals into his bloodstream.

Almost immediately, Brian began to feel drowsy. He blinked his eyes repeatedly to try and keep them open, but his rapidly blurring vision made it pointless. What he could see was alternatively wreathed in light or his field of vision edged with black. That black haze began to win out, darkening his vision so that even the white ceiling above his head lost its brilliance.

"I need you to call Dr. Gillan," Brian heard Dr. Bledso say as he continued to focus on the rapidly fading world around him. "I would like a more detailed file on his former patient."

"Certainly, Dr. Bledso," the nurse responded meekly.

There were footsteps and at first Brian couldn't figure out whether it was someone coming towards him or moving away. They seemed to echo all around the room, bouncing off the walls and ricocheting back towards him.

"Do not worry, Mr. Kinney," the good doctor said, his breath hot against the side of Brian's face. "We will have you--"

_"--sorted out in no time."_

_Brian tried to move, but he couldn't make his limbs respond. He couldn't even coax a finger into twitching._

_"This is all for your own good and you will realize that when you are in--"_

"--a more rational state."


	12. Made to be Broken

It had been nearly two days since Justin had last seen Brian. Late Thursday afternoon the cops had come to escort them to the hospital and now on Saturday afternoon he still had not been able to get into the restricted ward to see Brian. He had tried every persuasive talent that he possessed to get the nurses to let him in to see Brian for only a few minutes. Justin flirted, sweet talked them and even tried bribing a few of them when he became desperate. He knew that he had no proof, but Justin knew that something was wrong.

Thanks to his grandmother, Justin had one of Pittsburgh's best attorneys doing her best to get Brian released from the hospital. The only problem was that she couldn't take any official action until Monday when city hall opened again. That was simply too long for Justin. He needed to see Brian, needed to know that Brian was safe.

After his last hospital stay when he'd been attacked with a baseball bat, Justin had vowed to never again set foot in a hospital. They made him feel uneasy and incredibly helpless. He could remember lying in the hospital bed, barely able to move the entire right side of his body and having people he didn't know deciding his life would be lived for the next few months without any input from him. Knowing what he did of Brian's personality that would undoubtedly be hell for the older man.

"I am very tempted to have security ban you from the building," Dr. Bledso said as he crossed the small waiting room that led to the locked entrance of the psych ward.

"Just try it," Justin dared the doctor, rising from the uncomfortable chair he'd been sitting in. "You'll wish you'd never seen me if you do that because I will make your life hell."

The older man merely rolled his eyes. "I still cannot allow you to see him, Mr. Taylor. Your friend is in a restricted ward for a reason. He is a danger to himself and to others."

"That is complete and utter bullshit!" Justin bellowed, his eyes blazing as he moved to stand toe to toe with the older man. "Brian is not a threat to anyone. Or at least he wasn't before you started pumping him full of whatever drugs you have him on."

"Doug, would you please escort Mr. Taylor from the building. I don't want to see him here for the rest of the day," Dr. Bledso called to a nearby orderly before turning his attention back to Justin. "And you will only be allowed back here tomorrow provided you behave yourself."

"Let me see Brian today and I won't come back tomorrow," Justin offered, knowing that it would kill him to follow through on it, but desperate to see Brian.

"Goodbye, Mr. Taylor."

At that point, Justin was physically dragged to the nearby elevators. Doug had a good grip on his arm, but Justin made no attempt to fight him. Instead he went willingly, standing placidly alongside Doug in the elevator as they rode down to the main floor. There was no point in fighting the man because he was at least twice the size of Justin was himself. He would have been pounded into the ground before Doug even broke a sweat.

"I don't know why you keep bothering," Doug said as the elevator doors opened on the main floor of the hospital. "You're not going to get into that ward. Bledso won't let you."

"We'll see about that," Justin grumbled as he stalked out of the elevator and towards the exit.

"Hey, kid!" Doug shouted after him.

Justin stopped in his tracks, startled by the urgency he heard in Doug's voice. Turning slowly, Justin was surprised to see Doug jogging towards him. Justin made his way through the groups of people milling about the main lobby of the hospital, not quite sure what was going to happen or why Doug wanted to talk to him.

"What do you want?" Justin asked as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Doug glanced around, making sure that no one was watching them. "I just thought you might want to know that Bledso gets off at seven. The nurses change up at seven-thirty and the desk is sometimes left unattended for a few minutes. Your friend is in room 325."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I gotta go," Doug mumbled before heading back towards the elevator.

Justin stared after the orderly, wondering whether or not he could trust the other man. Doug worked for the hospital and had even been there the night Brian had been brought in. For all Justin knew, Doug had been helping Dr. Bledso do whatever he was doing to Brian. Because Justin knew that the doctor was doing something highly unethical to Brian. If he wasn't then Justin would have been allowed in to see him. He would have been added to the visitors list and allowed to go see Brian for a few minutes at the very least.

Since it was only four o'clock, Justin decided to go get something to eat and head back to the hotel to change his clothes. All of the walls in the hospital were white so there was no point in him keeping his mostly black attire if he was going to sneak in to see Brian. Justin also made a mental note to stop off at the Big Q so that he could pick up some sweats for Brian to change into in case things turned out to be worse than Justin was already imagining. There was no way Justin was going to leave Brian in there if he was being hurt, legal order or not.

An hour later, Justin had stopped at the Big Q to pick up the sweats-- grey sweatshirt and a white long sleeve tee --as well as some socks and a pair of sneakers and was currently waiting in the Liberty Diner for his take-out order to be prepared. It wasn't until he saw the red-haired woman walk out of one of the back rooms that Justin realized that it was the same diner Brian had brought him to their first day in Pittsburgh. Justin tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, hoping that Debbie wouldn't notice him. He had no desire to hear what she had to say, but knew without question that it would be loud.

The fates being what they were, Justin nearly made it out of the diner without Debbie noticing him. Justin got his order, pair for it, and when he went to turn found himself standing face to face with the woman Brian had thought of as a mother.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here after that stunt you and the imposter tried to pull," the waitress growled, firmly planting herself in Justin's path.

"I just came here to get myself some dinner," Justin sighed, holding up the paper bag that held his meal. "And now that I have it I'm gonna go."

Debbie made no move to get out of his way. "What did the supposed Brian order?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Sunshine. What did this supposed Brian of yours order?" Debbie repeated, holding his gaze.

"Brian didn't order anything because he's in the hospital," Justin ground out, casting Debbie one final glare before moving around her and stalking out of the diner.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Justin wished he could have called them back. He wasn't still entirely convinced that Debbie, Michael or Melanie, or perhaps even the three combined, were being the order to have Brian committed. Melanie was a lawyer, after all, and undoubtedly knew a lot of judges. Even those who would sign documents for a friend on holidays.

Justin hurried back to the jeep he'd rented, not wanting to stick around to see Debbie's reaction. He was half afraid that she wouldn't react at all meaning that she had something to do with Brian being locked up in the psych ward. It disgusted Justin to think that Brian's own family would be so ready to dismiss the sheer miracle of Brian returning after they'd believed him dead for nearly four years as a prank. Had their roles been reversed and Justin was the one being told that someone he loved wasn't really dead, he would have been ecstatic. He would have refused to let Brian out of his sight for at least a week for fear that he would disappear once again.

Back at the hotel, Justin dropped the take-out bag on the table before making a beeline to the bed where he immediately flopped down on his back. He was still tense from his confrontation with Debbie and knew that he would be no good to Brian if he was tense when he went back to the hospital.

It was a good thing that he hadn't ordered any hot food because it took Justin nearly half an hour to calm down. He simply laid on the bed staring up at the white ceiling, breathing in and out deeply. At one point he could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes and fought desperately to keep them at bay. He wished that he had something of Brian's. Something that he could hold onto and know that it belonged to the other man and that he wasn't simply a figment of his overactive imagination. The only possessions Brian had had were his clothes, wallet and cell phone; all of which had been on him when he'd been admitted to the hospital.

Justin was barely able to keep down his turkey club sandwich. He finished only half of it and wrapped the rest back up and put it in his satchel along with the clothes and shoes he'd bought for Brian. After having a quick shower, Justin changed into a white long sleeve tee of his own and a pair of jeans then packed up everything else. Justin wasn't bringing Brian back to the hotel. The police knew where they were staying so if Justin wanted to keep Brian safe and away from Dr. Bledso he had to check out of the hotel and possibly even leave Pittsburgh.

The only thing that was important was keeping Brian safe.

Just after seven o'clock Justin pulled into the hospital parking lot. Justin made sure to keep his eye out in case Dr. Bledso hadn't left yet, but made it up to the elevators then to the floor of the psych ward without any problems. He stayed in the corridor that led to the psych ward lobby so that he could watch for the nurse that was on duty at the desk to leave. Then, just as Doug had said, the desk was left unattended.

Not wanting to waste any time, Justin rushed across empty lobby and to the small counter to where he knew the button to release the security door was. Having spent many long hours in the lobby, Justin knew where the button was and as luck would have it the keys to the rooms in the psych ward had been left on the desk just below it. Justin was amazed at the lax security on a supposedly restricted floor, but at the moment he was simply grateful because it would make it that much easier for him to get to Brian.

Justin couldn't help but roll his eyes when he noticed that each key had a number on it and since all of those numbers were in the three hundreds Justin knew that they were room numbers. Snatching key 325 from the key ring, Justin hit the release on the security door. 

There were voices coming from an adjoining hallway as Justin was opening the door. Darting in, Justin quickly pulled the door closed behind him and was sprinting down the corridor before the nurses had even entered the lobby. Now it was only a matter of getting to Brian's room so that he could finally see his new friend and lover after two long and stressful days of separation.

Keeping his eyes on the numbers painted on the right side of the doors, Justin sprinted down the hallway until he came to room 325. The room that Doug had said Brian was in. Sure enough, when Justin glanced through the small window in the center of the door and into the room he saw Brian lying on the bed.

The only problem was that Brian was strapped down to the bed.

Shoving the key into the lock, Justin unlocked the door then shoved it open, catching it at the last moment so that it wouldn't slam against the door.

"Brian!" Justin gasped as he hurried to Brian's side, making sure to shut the door behind him.

Brian gave a grunted response, but his eyes didn't open more than a sliver. Justin wasn't even sure that he was conscious and lightly tapped his cheeks. That time Brian moaned and there was a very panicked edge to it.

"Brian, it's me. Justin.... Can you open your eyes for me," Justin murmured as he smoothed a thumb over the older man's furrowed brows. “Come on, Bri, I don't know how much time we have."

"Nnnnn," Brian whimpered, jerking his head out of Justin's hands.

Silently cursing Bledso for giving Brian so many drugs, Justin hurriedly unfastened the restraints on Brian's arms and legs. He winced when he saw the deep bruises on Brian's wrists and ankles, imagining just how hard the older man had fought.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Brian," Justin swore as he rubbed Brian's damaged wrists soothingly. "But you've gotta wake up 'cause you're a little too big for me to carry out of here."

That time Brian's eyes fluttered open, the hazel eyes darting about the room until, at last, they landed on Justin. Smiling broadly, Justin reached a hand up to cup Brian's cheek, lightly smoothing his thumb over his cheekbone. In the next few seconds a single tear slid down Brian's cheek.

"Hey, hey," Justin whispered as he leaned over to kiss the tear away. "It's okay, Bri. I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise. Now, come on. Nice and easy. That's it, sit up. Come on, Brian. That's right.... There we go.... Hey, stud."

Even with Justin's help, it seemed to take all of Brian's energy to get him seated upright. Brian continued to lean forward a bit more, slumping against Justin's side as his arm loosely wound itself around Justin's waist.

"Mak i' stop.... Please... please help...." Brian moaned, clutching at Justin's hip. He let out a frightened cry as Justin slid off the bed. "Noooo...."

"I'm not going anywhere," Justin promised as he brought his hands up to hold Brian's face between his palms. "I'm just getting a change of clothes for you so that you don't have to wander around the hospital with your ass hanging out. Okay?"

Brian nodded his head slowly, his eyes sliding shut. "'Kay."

"No, Brian, you've gotta keep your eyes open," Justin instructed, using his thumbs to lift Brian's upper eyelids. "Stay awake. We need to get you dressed."

For several tense minutes Justin struggled to get Brian into the long-sleeved tee and sweat pants. Justin was constantly glancing over his shoulder, listening for any sounds of someone coming down the hallway. Brian's limbs were extremely sluggish and Justin had to physically maneuver his arms and legs into the appropriate holes. The shoes were much easier.

"Need you to stand up now," Justin said as he guided Brian's hips closer to the edge of the bed. "I'm just gonna pull your pants up over your hips then we can go."

"'Bout fuckin' time," Brian groaned as he carefully set his feet on the ground.

Justin couldn't help but smile at the absolute relief he heard in Brian's voice as he brought the elastic waist jogging pants up over narrow hips. There was a slight tremor to his voice that hadn't been there two days ago and Justin could only hope that it would go away as the drugs began to clear his system. In the meantime, there was no possible way that Justin would let Brian out of his sight. Not until he was absolutely positive that there were no lasting effects from whatever Dr. Bledso had been injecting him with over the past forty-eight hours. There could be innumerable side effects that he wouldn't even know about until they were happening and he didn't want to chance Brian being alone if that happened.

Looping Brian's right arm over his shoulder, Justin slowly began to guide Brian towards the door. He would have preferred to move faster, but with Brian's stumbling, awkward steps, a faster pace would have been disastrous. The taller man would have gone toppling to the ground and Justin would have had to waste valuable time getting him righted again.

Knowing that there had to be a fire exit somewhere in the corridor, Justin led Brian away from the lobby and towards the opposite end of the hospital. At the exact same moment that the thought occurred to him, though, another followed close on its heels.

Fire exits had alarms. Alarms that could quite possibly be traced to the exact floor where said door had been open.

Either way Justin knew that he would have to take the chance. There was no other way they'd be able to get off the floor because the only exit Justin knew of was the lobby. He knew that there had to be others, though, safety codes and all that.

Justin cursed under his breath when he saw someone coming from the other direction.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Brian said against Justin's throat.

"Justin, this way," the figure hissed.

Justin heaved a great sigh of relief. It was Doug. Taking a chance and praying that there was nothing double-sided about the orderly, Justin led Brian towards him. There was still a chance that things would end badly for him, but Justin had no intention of going down without a fight.

"I disabled the fire alarm on the stairwell," Doug explained as he looped Brian's free arm over his shoulder. "You can get out that way."

"Why are you helping--"

"I fucked him," Brian chuckled as he tilted his head to the side to peer up at Doug. "About a week before I went to San Francisco."

"That pretty much sums it up," Doug smirked then looked over Brian's head to meet Justin's eyes. "Look, we'd better get going. Rounds are in about fifteen minutes."

Justin didn't know how he would have gotten Brian down the three flights of stairs without Doug's help. Still woozy from the medication, Brian was stumbling and nearly went toppling down the steps on more than one occasion. They were quick, though, thanks to Doug’s great upper body strength. He was able to support Brian almost entirely which allowed Justin to reach ahead and open the door leading outside to the parking lot.

"Did you park nearby?" Doug asked as they cleared the sidewalk.

"Right this way," Justin said, nodding his head to the crowded area to their left.

As he was buckling Brian into the passenger seat a few minutes later, Justin was still having a hard time believing how easy it had been. It had taken less than twenty minutes for him to get Brian out of the hospital. Now all that was left was for them to get the hell out of the city.

"Trust me, I will never be able to thank you enough for this," Justin said as he turned to Dough who had been acting as a lookout. "And I don't even know why you did it."

Doug waved his hand absently, already making to leave. "Don't worry about it, just make sure you don't come back to the Pitts. I'm not."

Justin watched as Doug hurried deeper into the parking lot, presumably to where he'd parked his own vehicle. Then Justin closed the passenger door and hurried over to the driver's side. Justin quickly belted himself in and as he placed his hand on the gearshift after turning on the ignition, he felt Brian's hand coming to rest on his.

"Thank you," Brian mumbled, blinking owlishly at him as he nuzzled his head back into the headrest.

"Thank me when we actually get out of here."


	13. Made to be Broken

_"It was quite fortunate for us that you decided to contact your family," the disembodied voice of Dr. Bledso said to him. "Dr. Gillan and I went through a lot of trouble to keep you out of the way these past few years and it would be a shame to ruin all of that."_

_Brian opened his mouth to tell the doctor where to go, but found that he couldn't speak around the hard plastic ball filling his mouth. The strap holding the gag in his mouth was extremely tight, digging into the corners of his mouth. The ones around his wrists and ankles were no better. He could still feel the blood dribbling down his wrists before it was absorbed by the mattress below._

_A needled appeared in front of his face and--_

"Brian!"

Brian woke with a start, his entire body jerking away from the hand on his shoulder. He slammed his head against something hard and cried out, bringing his hands up to protect his head. There was a second jerk and Brian rolled himself into as tight a ball as possible, wanting to hide away from any possible threat.

"Brian, hey. It's okay, Brian. It's just me. You're safe here. I won't let anything hurt you," Justin soothed, his hands sneaking behind Brian's arms to cup his cheeks. "You're safe, Brian. I promise you're safe. I've got you and we're away from the hospital and I'll never let you go back there. Never."

His next breath came out in a sob and he brought his hands down so that he could grip at Justin's forearms before following the trail up so that he could slide his arms around Justin's shoulders. He held Justin tightly, leaning forward so that he could press his face into Justin's neck. The familiar scent comforted him and his sobs increased in volume as he felt himself breaking apart quite thoroughly in Justin's arms. Brian couldn't make out the exact words Justin was whispering in his ear. He could hear Justin's voice, though, and knew that he was really with Justin.

"Just relax, Brian," Justin whispered as Brian's tears began to lessen. "We're about two hours out of the city. No one's coming after us and I figure I can drive a few more hours before we stop and let you get some real rest."

"I don't wanna go back there," Brian moaned against Justin's shoulder.

"You won't," Justin said against the top of his head. "We just need to drive a bit further then we'll be somewhere safe and you won't have to worry about Dr. Bledso."

Snuffling, Brian slid back into his seat, sinking deep into the cushioned seat. "Then drive, please. I don't want to ever go back there."

Justin pulled back out into traffic, continuing their drive to wherever he had planned. Brian trusted Justin to keep him safe. That was the only thought running through his head as he watched the landscape speed by. His head was still very foggy and he knew that he drifted off from time to time. Songs on the radio ended without him being aware of it and he became aware of others halfway through. Each time he would feel himself jerk awake, Brian would turn his head enough to see Justin.

As long as Justin was there everything would be okay.

_"Help me!" Brian shouted as the gag was removed from his mouth. "Please! Help me! Someone!"_

_A blow to his ribs silenced him immediately._

_"I do not know why you fight, Brian," Dr. Bledso sighed, sounding quite put out. "Things will go much easier provided you stop fighting. Just let us do our work and we can make you well again."_

_"You're just... fucking... fucking with my head," Brian gasped once he managed to suck in enough breath to speak._

_Dr. Bledso appeared offended by that. "Hardly, Brian. I am merely trying to help you. Your family knew that you needed help so they contacted me. Your brother was most concerned about your mental health...."_

This time Brian woke himself, but with no less of a start than when Justin had woken him earlier. Brian immediately turned to the driver's side, expecting to see Justin there, and became incredibly uneasy when he didn't see him. His breath came in frantic gulps as he fumbled with the seatbelt. His panic only increased when he realized that he couldn't get the buckle to release and he was effectively trapped. Brian was hyperventilating as he fought to get himself free from the seatbelt and could not contain a panicked scream from escaping his lips as the passenger door was opened.

"It's okay, Brian. It's just me," Justin assured him as he clasped Brian's frantically fumbling hands within his own.

"I c-couldn't get th-- the seatbelt off," Brian stammered, squeezing his eyes shut tight and leaning his forehead against Justin's shoulder. "You weren't there and I couldn't get it off and.... Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," Justin said as he deftly unfastened the seatbelt. "You've just spent two days on fuck knows what kind of drugs. You just have to wait until they clear your system then you'll be fine."

Brian carefully slid from the seat, Justin supporting him to make sure he didn't tumble forward. With Justin's arm around his waist, Brian was led towards a motel room door, stumbling only slightly. Justin kept him steady all the while, murmuring comforting words in his ear whenever he seemed to falter. And Brian held tight to him. He didn't want Justin to slip away. Not when Justin was the only thing holding him to reality.

"Hold still, babe," Justin murmured as he stilled in order to unlock the door.

"Not going anywhere," Brian mumbled, turning his face into Justin's throat. "Don't think I can."

When Justin started moving forward again, Brian nearly lost his footing. He managed to stay upright, with no small help from Justin, and soon found himself lying sprawled on the room's only bed. When Justin disappeared from sight, Brian rolled himself onto his side, curling himself into as tight a ball as he could manage. Rationally he knew that he had no reason to hide, but he still felt uneasy. Close to paranoid.

"Juss...." Brian moaned when the blonde had stayed away too long. He slid his right hand away from his curled body, reaching towards the younger man. Brian sighed with relief when he felt Justin's fingers slide through his, gripping them hard as he sat down on the bed.

"I'm right here, Brian," the younger man assured him, leaning over so that his face was staring back at him from across the pillow. "I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise."

Brian nodded his head slightly, his eyes fluttering shut of their own violation. He forcedly blinked them open again, staring at Justin to make sure that he didn't move.

"Do you feel up to a bath?"

Brian groaned as he sunk into the heated water, the warmth penetrating his skin down to the very marrow of his bones. It was deliciously decadent and became even more so when Justin slipped in behind him, drawing him back against his chest.

Even though the water only went a little higher than his waist, the combination of the warm water and Justin being wrapped around him was infinitely soothing. He simply closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off, content in the knowledge that Justin would keep him from slipping under. When Justin's hands began to slide over his torso, Brian felt every movement intimately. It was as though the blonde was touching raw nerve endings rather than the flesh itself. The touches were so soft and so gentle, so unlike anything Brian had experienced over the past few days that he could not stop the tears he could feel gathering in the corner of his eyes.

"I figure we can head up the coast, go to Canada and try to figure out just what the fuck is going on from there," Justin murmured as he continued to trace idle patterns over Brian's chest with his fingertips.

And even though he was relieved that Justin was going with him, he couldn't help but feel guilty as well. Justin had already helped him so much more than he deserved, putting his entire life on hold to help out a guy he hadn't even known for an entire week. Brian knew that he never would have done what Justin had done for him. He would have just called the cops and let them deal with whoever was passed out in the entrance of his building.

"If you want to walk away right now, Justin, I won't stop you," Brian said as he squeezed his eyes shut. "This is more fucked up than I ever could have imagined. You could end up in jail for breaking me out of there."

"It was worth it," Justin said against the top of his head. "Getting you out of there.... I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd left you in there. You were tied to the bed and pumped full of drugs. That's not normal, Brian. They could have done anything to you and you wouldn't have even known."

Brian felt himself tremble at that, not wanting to consider the implications of Justin's words. There was very little that he remembered from his enforced stay in the hospital. Only vague memories of being terrified and unable to move. There were brief pieces of conversation that lingered in his mind, things that didn't make much sense on their own. Except for one little bit that made no sense on its own or as part of a full statement.

_"Your brother was most concerned about your mental health...."_

“Bledso,” Brian gasped suddenly, jerking himself into a more upright position.

“What about Bledso?” Justin asked, sitting up so that his chest was once again pressed to Brian’s back. He wound his arms around the brunette, his fingers moving in a soothing circular motion across his stomach.

Brian paused for a moment, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. “Bledso.... He said... he said that it was my brother that contacted him. The first time, when I disappeared.”

“Your brother?” Justin echoed, smoothing a hand through his rumpled hair.

“I don’t have a brother, Justin,” Brian clarified, slumping against the other man. “I have one sister. Claire. I’ve never had a brother. The old man never would have let my mother get pregnant again after she had me.”

Justin only gripped him tighter at that, holding him snug against his chest. “We’ll figure it out, Brian. Whatever’s happening to you we’ll figure out what it is.”

By the time they made their way back into the main area of the motel room, Brian was starting to feel more like himself. He was exhausted, true enough, but the all-consuming panic was starting to ebb somewhat. Brian still wasn’t ready to be parted from Justin, but he felt calmer than he had when they’d arrived at the motel.

As he laid there on the bed, Justin spooning him from behind, Brian wracked his brains trying to come up with some other memory from the days he had been in the hospital. That he could remember nothing only frustrated him further. He had a vague recollection of the end of his captivity of a man who had been with Justin when he'd been released.... Doug. Doug had been there. The army lieutenant that he'd fucked in the backroom of Babylon about a week before he'd left for San Francisco. What he was doing working as an orderly at the hospital was beyond him. Even more confusing was why Doug had helped him to escape. The man had no reason to try and help him. They'd spent barely half an hour together and since he doubted that Doug was missing a huge chunk of his past, it was even odder that he remembered their brief interlude.

"You okay?" Justin murmured against the back of his neck. "You're shaking."

Brian took several deep breaths, willing the tremors away. It wasn't working, though. Just when he would think that he had it under control, the shaking would begin again full force. Heaving a shuddering sigh, Brian rolled onto his other side, burrowing his face against Justin's chest. He wanted to let Justin make it all go away. It was cowardly, but he didn't care. He just wanted five minutes where he didn't have to think about how fucked up his life had become.

"Hey. Bri. Look at me," Justin whispered, placing a finger under Brian's chin in order to lift his head.

Snuffling, Brian allowed Justin to raise his head, blinking away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He could have sighed with relief when Justin dipped his head down to press their lips together in a very tender kiss. He needed the contact, needed to feel grounded. He moaned into the kiss, clutching at Justin's shoulders in an attempt to pull him even closer.

"I don't want to think right now," Brian moaned into Justin's mouth. "Please don't let me think."

One of Justin's hands drifted down to cup his cheek as he stared intently into Brian's eyes. "Are you sure? After what just happened to you, I'd understand if--"

Brian silenced Justin with a second kiss. He rolled over onto his back, pulling Justin with him so that the blonde was lying on top of him. Brian was awash with dueling emotions. With Justin straddling his waist and lying on top of him he felt safe, but at the same time he wanted to be the one in control. At the moment he was content to having Justin in his arms and feeling his lover's lips moving gently against his.

Even so, Brian couldn't help but flinch when he felt Justin's fingers brush against his belly. He'd hoped that Justin wouldn't notice it, but almost immediately the younger man raised himself up enough to break contact.

"Brian? Are you all right?" Justin said quietly as he carefully slid his fingers into Brian's rumpled hair.

"Yeah," Brian rumbled after taking several deep breaths. "Yeah, I just had a.... I don't know..... Please don't stop."

Weak as the words made him sound, Brian could feel nothing but relief at the gentle touches Justin lavished upon him. Justin was very careful with him as he removed his shirt, making sure that every action and touch was welcomed. Once the blonde had removed both of their shirts, he lowered himself back down so that they were once again lying chest to chest. By this point Brian was far more desperate for contact and his hands immediately went to Justin's hips, fumbling between their bodies for the button of his jeans. He wanted all of Justin to be touching all of him.

Justin seemed to have other plans, though. He wiggled himself out of Brian's hold and began to kiss a trail down his torso. Brian moaned, arching his back as Justin's tongue traveled down the center of his chest dipping it into his belly button. While he was thoroughly distracted with Justin's tongue delving in and out of his navel, he didn't notice that the younger man had hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweats until they were being dragged over his hips. Brian lifted his hips so that Justin was able to pull the sweats over his hips and off.

"Juss...." Brian moaned as Justin pressed a finger against his inner thigh. Needing more contact, he reached up to slide his fingers into Justin's hair, twining his fingers though the shining locks. "Lo... looo.... Justin...."

Crawling back up Brian's body, Justin smiled down at him. "I love you too, Brian."

Brian was convinced that the drugs were still wreaking havoc with his system. Brian didn't do love. With the exception of Ben he'd never let anyone past his barriers, not even Mikey. He'd trusted Ben enough to make himself vulnerable to the other man. The same as he was now doing with Justin. And Brian knew that he did love Justin. And the thought actually didn't terrify him which really freaked him out. The one thing that hadn't changed was that he couldn't say the words. He'd never been able to say them, not even to Ben even though they'd been together for several years and were living together.

Justin didn't seem to mind, though. All he did was touch their foreheads together while his fingertips followed the same trail his tongue had a few moments before. 

"You sure you're still up for this?" Justin murmured, his hand lingering on Brian's stomach, not going any lower.

Brian's response was to take hold of Justin's hand and guide it down to his erection. Whether he felt up to it or not, Brian needed it. He needed to somehow feel grounded and connected to something. Brian squeezed his eyes shut tight, nearly crying out, when Justin pulled away. He managed to hold back the sound at the last moment when he saw that the other man was simply removing his jeans.

Then Justin was once again lying stretched out against his side. Brian rolled himself over onto his side as well, sighing when he felt the warmth of Justin's skin against his own. He startled slightly when Justin's hand slid between their bodies to roll a condom onto his cock. Brian didn't remember seeing Justin either get the condom or open the package it was in. All the same, there it was and Justin was wiggling around in such a way that Brian was sure he was lubing himself up.

When Justin turned himself around so that he lay with his back pressed to Brian's chest, the brunette placed his hand on Justin's hip. Holding him steady as he carefully guiding himself into the puckered opening. Brian gasped as the tight heat that encircled his shaft, his jaw falling slack as he pressed his face against the back of Justin's neck. It took him several moments before he was able to start moving. Even when he did begin to thrust, the motion of his hips were very languid, not rushing. For the first time since he'd woken up to see Justin hovering over him in the hospital, Brian felt grounded. Felt as though he was a part of the world again and not lost in some kind of haze.

Brian couldn't help but smile when he heard the shuddering moan escape from Justin's mouth. He moved his head to nuzzle against the side of Justin's face, placing tender, open-mouthed kisses along his cheek and at his temple. His smile grew when Justin's fingers began to play with the longer wisps of his hair.

It wasn't until Brian felt his orgasm building in the bit of his stomach that his thrusting became quicker and more jerky. Justin was muttering a spew of nonsense words as both of their hands were fumbling with his cock. Justin was the one who came first, shuddering in Brian's arms as he climaxed. Brian came a few seconds later, his face pressed tight against Justin' s shoulder as he shuddered through his orgasm.

The two men lay panting in each others arms for a few minutes, coming down from their high, before getting rid of the condom and getting themselves cleaned up and situated under the sheets. Brian immediately burrowed himself back into Justin's arms, tucking his head under the smaller man's chin.

"Thank you for getting me out of there," Brian said quietly against Justin's chest as he began to drift off to sleep. For the first time in several days it was going to be a natural sleep, not one brought on by a multitude of drugs. "I can't think of anyone else who would have done that for me. Not even before I...."

"I couldn't leave you in there," Justin said immediately, his lips moving against Brian's forehead. "Nothing about it felt right. And when I wasn't allowed to go in and see you... I knew I had to get in there to see you and then when I saw you I knew there was no way I could leave you in there. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had."

"Either way, thanks," Brian yawned, his thumb moving over Justin's side where his arm was draped lazily over his lover's stomach.


	14. Made to be Broken

"Is it this exit or the next one?" Brian asked, glancing over at Justin who had his face buried in a road map. 

Justin checked the route for about the twenty-fifth time before lowering the map in order to see Brian who was in the driver's seat. "The next one."

"You sure?" the brunette grinned, his eyes darting back and forth between Justin and the road.

Scowling, Justin found himself unable to resist the temptation and once again consulted the map. "Yes. The next one. Definitely the next one. Now stop trying to slip me up."

The laughter that came from the driver's seat was music to Justin's ears. It had been two days since Justin had rescued Brian from the psychiatric ward of Allegheny General and the older man was doing far better. Brian still had moments of panic, but for the most part was able to keep himself in check. He was the one to suggest that they head up near Ottawa where Ben's family had a cabin that would be out of use in December. It would be cold, but better than having Brian locked up.

Since Brian was still really out of it, they spent the entire morning and some of the afternoon at the motel that first day while Justin began planning their original route which would have taken them along the east coast. With Brian's suggestion that they head to the cabin on Ottawa, Justin had altered it. Since it would have only taken them less than a day to get there from their current location Justin had been very elaborate in his planning, taking longer routes wherever possible.

The first thing they had done once Brian felt well enough to travel was to buy a used car to replace the rental one that would be easier to track. Dipping into the settlement money Justin had received from the civil trial his parents had insisted on when he's been attacked, Justin was able to buy a decent 84 Blazer that would fit all sorts of gear should the need arise.

"Let me know when you want to switch," Justin said as he folded up the map, knowing that they wouldn't need it for a while.

"I'm fine," Brian said immediately, glancing over at him briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "I haven't even been driving for three hours yet."

Justin bit the inside of his lower lip, doing his utmost to resist pointing out to Brian that while he may have felt find then, but that there was still no telling how many drugs were still swimming about in his system. Brian had been tired a lot over the past two days well. He would be fine for long stretches of time then just suddenly crash and have a hard time even keeping his eyes open. Justin wanted to point all of this out, but knew Brian well enough to keep such thoughts to himself.

At first Justin had been unsure of what would happen once they reached the border. Justin had decided to use the Detroit/Windsor crossing, taking the bridge to conceal their passing with all of the truck traffic. He was also less than keen on using the underwater tunnel that was the other route at that border crossing. If they got stuck in traffic, Justin would have rather not been in a cement tomb. Since Brian's wallet had been left in the hotel room they had been able to use his ID which Justin did his best to keep the name on concealed without it appearing obvious. As it had turned out there had been no real need for him to worry. The harried Canadian customs officer had only given their identification a cursory glance and asked whether or not they had anything to declare. 

"Well even though you're not tired can we still find a spot to eat after the next exit?" Justin asked, knowing that it would be easier for him to get Brian to give up the driving duties once they'd actually stopped somewhere. "I just had a quick breakfast at the hotel and that was hours ago."

Brian cast him a knowing smirk but when they turned off in the next town Brian he pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant built in what had once obviously been a house. "You know I'd much rather just stop at a Tim Hortons to get a coffee and a muffin, right?"

Almost as soon as they'd crossed the border, Brian had made Justin pull into a Tim Hortons' parking lot so that they could get some coffee and switch the driving detail. Before they'd even left Windsor it had become clearly obvious to both of them that Tim Hortons was the Canadian equivalent of Starbucks. And just as addictive given how many times Brian had stopped at one while he was driving.

"But you'll enjoy a home cooked meal even better," Justin laughed as he slid out of the Blazer.

"Says you," Brian grumbled as he slung an arm around Justin's waist when they met in front of the vehicle.

Justin didn't protest as he found himself pulled tight to Brian's side. Brian liked to stay within arms reach of each other at all times. He'd freaked out that morning when he'd woken up while Justin was taking a shower. When Justin had come out he'd found Brian pacing back and forth muttering to himself. Then when it had come time for Brian to take his own shower he'd insisted that Justin stay in the bathroom with him. And while a part of him wanted to be freaked out by how Brian was clinging to him he knew that Brian was still out of sorts and needed the contact. Contact that Justin was more than happy to give him.

As Justin had predicted, Brian enjoyed the meal, devouring everything set before him. A creamy mushroom soup, baked chicken with a spicy breading, baked potato and a garden salad. Ordering the same thing himself, but with fries instead of the baked potato, Justin couldn't help but grin whenever Brian would sneak one of the fries from his plate. Brian returned the grin each time, knowing full well that he had been caught, but was otherwise completely unrepentant.

Despite his best efforts, though, Justin couldn't convince Brian to order anything for desert. So while the other man was in the washroom, Justin ordered half a dozen of the "house specialty" brownies and had them packed to go. He held them in his bulky winter coat when the older man returned to the main part of the restaurant, not revealing them until he climbed into the driver's seat of the car.

"Now see I seem to recall saying no to desert," Brian smirked as he picked up the bag Justin had set on the dashboard and peered inside. "Brownies?"

Reaching into the bag, Justin extracted one of the six brownies and took a big bite, moaning as the delicious taste of the chocolate hit his tongue. "You've gotta try this," he said, holding the brownie out towards Brian, waggling it in front of his lips. "Come on. You've gotta try it.... Hurry up or you'll end up smeared with chocolate."

Brian continued to glare at him, but opened his mouth enough to allow Justin to slip the brownie between his lips. Brian's tongue slithered out to touch the tip of Justin's finger, drawing it back into his mouth along with the chocolate treat.

"That wasn't so hard," Justin grinned as he extracted his finger from between Brian's lips.

"Brat," Brian murmured affectionately as he licked the remnants of the desert from his lips.

Between traffic, construction and the weather it was close to nightfall when they made it to Ottawa. The snow was starting to fall hard and since Brian didn't want to risk getting lost trying to find the cabin that he'd only been to twice by traveling at night. That he even had a key for the place was pretty miraculous as far as Justin was concerned. With the four years that had passed between the night Brian had slipped his key ring into his pocket and the night he had turned up on Justin's doorstep anything could have happened and yet Brian had both his key ring and wallet. Granted Brian was without his credit cards, but everything else was in there, even the sonogram picture that was hidden in a small slot behind where the credit cards should have been.

In the motel, as soon as he'd dropped his bag, Brian immediately pulled Justin into his arms, walking them backwards until they collapsed backwards onto the bed.

"I'm not squishing you, am I?" Justin asked as he shifted about on top of the taller man.

Brian shook his head and Justin could feel the movement against the top of his head, but he didn't say anything. For the past few hundred kilometers Brian had been very quiet, staring out the window at the passing scenery and whenever Justin would try to get him talking he would mumble something that wasn't an actual word.

Lifting his head up, Justin peered down at Brian's face, smoothing his fingertips through Brian's hair to push it away from his face. "Are you all right, Brian? You've been very quiet for a while now."

"I broke my promise to Gus," Brian said quietly after a few moments’ silence. "I told him that I wouldn't go away again... but now I am. I've disappeared again and I don't know if I'm ever going to see him again."

Justin lowered his head back onto Brian's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut tight to stop any tears from slipping past his lashes. There was such agony in Brian's voice that Justin knew it was killing him to be away from his son. At the moment there was nothing that could be done. Going back to Pittsburgh, even calling Lindsay, was far too risky given that Justin had actually broken Brian out of the hospital.

"It's not your fault, Brian," Justin whispered once he was sure he could speak without his voice cracking. "Neither of us planned this and we had no way of knowing what was going to happen. I never would have brought you back to Pittsburgh if I thought for one second that something like this would have happened."

"Not your fault," Brian mumbled sleepily, repeating Justin's own words back to him. "Didn't know what was going to happen."

Feeling Brian's tense muscles beginning to relax, Justin remained silent, waiting for him to drift off to sleep. More than anything Justin knew that Brian needed to rest in order to purge the rest of whatever drugs remained in his system. When Brian's breath began to even out, Justin carefully rolled onto his side, making sure to keep on contact with the older man the entire time. He wanted Brian to sleep but didn't want to squish him.

Justin propped himself up on one elbow, peering down at Brian's sleeping features. Brian always looked so relaxed when he was sleeping, so at peace. It was far better than when he was terrified and frantic as a nightmare tugged at his mind and Justin hoped that Brian's sleep would be nightmare free this time. 

He waited until he was sure that Brian was sleeping soundly before carefully extracting himself from his lover's arms. It was too early for him to sleep-- barely after seven --and since they hadn't eaten dinner yet began to sift through the stack of take-out menus for something that he would hopefully be able to coax Brian into eating. Having a sudden craving for chicken fried rice, Justin placed an order with a nearby Chinese restaurant then set about making Brian more comfortable. He removed Brian's sneakers and socks and folded the comforter over him so that he would stay warm.

With nothing else to do while he waited for the delivery man to arrive and not wanting to risk waking Brian up by turning on the television, Justin took one of the sketch pads out of his backpack, along with a few pencils and carefully settled down cross legged on the empty side of the bed. Brian looked wonderfully rumpled having spent a good portion of the day with his head burrowed against the headrest and his mouth was open just a touch. Just enough so that Justin could see the top of his tongue poking between his teeth. His head was turned to the side and his right hand had moved up so that his fingers were nearly brushing the very tip of his nose.

Under normal circumstances, sketching was the way Justin attempted to lose himself and push away all of his worries. It wasn't working this time, though. Justin found himself plagued with millions of thoughts about what was going to happen to them. There was no way they could stay hidden away in Ben's cabin forever. For the winter, maybe, but not indefinitely. They could possibly head down to Mexico. Lose themselves in the endless beaches. Or even stay in Canada. It was a beautiful country and it would be easy to hide in some small town somewhere.

Justin was startled by a knock at the door. He instinctively tensed, not sure who was there. Rationally he knew that anyone who meant to hurt Brian wouldn't be knocking on the door, but he still didn't relax until he heard someone call, "Delivery from Fong's Villa," through the door. Releasing a breath he hadn't been aware of holding in, Justin climbed off the bed and hurried over to the door before the man could knock a second time.

"You Justin Taylor?" the delivery man asked, glancing up from the receipt stapled to one of the paper bags.

"That's me," Justin confirmed, silently cursing himself for not having thought of a good fake name. "How much do I owe you?"

After paying the delivery man Justin shut the door with his foot and set the bags down on the small table nearby so that his hands were free to lock the door. Brian was starting to stir while Justin was unpacking the bag, his body stretching beneath the comforter.

"I ordered dinner," Justin called over, his voice quiet so as not to startle the other man. "I hope you like Chinese."

"How long was I asleep?" Brian grumbled as he rolled out of the bed.

"Less than an hour," Justin assured him. "Now get over here and eat up before the food gets cold."

Brian opened his mouth, starting up a pretence of not being hungry but all it took was a single glare from Justin to get him seated in the other chair and picking at the food he'd ordered. After a few minutes, though, Brian was no longer picking and the two of them actually had a brief fork battle over the last chicken ball. In the end Brian had split it down the middle and offered up half of it to Justin on the end of his fork. A favour which Justin returned, dipping it into the container of plum sauce first which of course meant that there were dribbles of the sauce on Brian's lower lip and chin.

"You did that on purpose," Brian smirked as Justin leaned across the small table to lick the warm sauce from his chin before pressing his lips to Brian's in a very tender kiss.

"Not gonna deny it," Justin grinned as he sat back in his seat, licking any sticky remnants from his own lips. "Any chance of you admitting that you enjoyed it?"

"I enjoyed it," the brunette confirmed, nodding his head slightly. "But I'm also really tired so if you don't mind...."

"Don't let me stop you," Justin said quickly. "I'm just gonna clean up then I'll probably join you."

Heaving a great sigh, Brian pushed himself tiredly out of the chair and trudged back towards the bed. He stripped himself down to his briefs before sliding under the covers, cuddling up with a pillow clutched to his chest. Justin watched for a few minutes as Brian snuggled down before he began packing up the remnants of their meal. Before long he heard Brian's breathing even out and he was asleep.

Justin tried to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb his lover even though he was not quite ready to fall asleep. Thankfully Brian hadn't seen the half-finished sketch so Justin could either finish it or start up a new one. Or both since he was of a mind and didn't want to risk waking Brian up by turning on the television.

Unfortunately Justin barely got the outline of a second sketch of Brian completed when the older man started fidgeting about in his sleep. Setting aside his sketchpad, Justin wiggled onto his side and began smoothing his fingers through Brian's hair. He murmured all sorts of nonsense words, trying to coax Brian into a more peaceful sleep. Not wanting to risk Brian suffering any further nightmares, Justin settled down to sleep as well even though he wasn't tired.

Throughout the next hour, as Justin attempted to fall asleep himself, Brian slowly began to inch his way closer until he was practically wrapped around Justin. He allowed himself to be used as a giant pillow, winding his arms around Brian's torso and sliding his fingers into Brian's hair. He wanted to keep Brian safe, but knew just as well that it might not be possible. There was no telling who was going to come looking for Brain or what they would do to him if they found him. All Justin did know was that he would do whatever it took to keep Brian safe for as long as he could.

Justin didn't remember falling asleep, but he was startled awake by a noise outside the hotel room. Brian was still sleeping soundly, curled against his side. Justin was prepared to drift back off to sleep himself when the nose repeated itself, this time louder and closer.

Carefully extracting himself from Brian's arms, Justin slipped on his jeans and the long-sleeved tee Brian had been wearing as he carefully inched towards the door. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find on the other side of the door or if he'd even be able to defend himself against what was on the other side of the door. But he had to at least try in order to make sure that nothing happened to Brian.

Since the door would be too obvious, Justin sidled to the window that overlooked the walkway in front of their second floor room and peeked through the edge of the curtain. The only thing Justin saw were a few cars in the parking lot and a snow plow getting an early start on the night's snowfall. But there was absolutely no sign of what had made the noise that had woken him.

"Idiot," Justin grumbled under his breath as he turned away from the window.

Pulling the shirt over his head, Justin made his way back over to the bed. He was just about to unbutton his jeans when suddenly something came crashing through the window. Men clad in black clothes came bursting through the window and door before Justin could even react. He spun around, meaning to move in front of Brian to protect him, when suddenly there was a heavy black baton being swung at his head.

Shooting upright in bed, Justin was barely able to swallow a scream that would have woken Brian up. Justin scrubbed his fingers through his hair, willing away the trembling that was coursing through his entire body.

"Jus'n...." Brian groaned, his hand pressing against the small of Justin's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Justin mumbled, nodding his head slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep, babe."

Brian slowly slid up and wound his arms around Justin's shoulders. "I thought we'd discussed you calling me names like that."

"I must have missed that one," Justin chuckled quietly, turning to peer down at Brian over his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Brian asked as he pressed a kiss to Justin's temple. "You're shaking all over."

Justin nuzzled deeper into Brian's arms, willing away the tremors so that Brian wouldn't worry. "I just had a dream that freaked me out. It's not big deal."

"What was it about?" the brunette murmured, his lips moving lightly against Justin's temple.

Justin shook his head immediately. "No. I don't wanna jinx it. It was bad. Let's just leave it at that."

Brian nodded his head, pressing another kiss to Justin's temple. "All right. Now come on, lay back down. It's late and I'm not sure how the roads are gonna be tomorrow."

Justin allowed himself to be pulled down alongside Brian. He felt safe with Brian's arms wound around him. He should have been the one making Brian feel safe given all that he had been through, Justin couldn't help but feel more at ease with Brian holding onto him. And even though he still felt uneasy after his dream, it wasn't long before sleep began to tug at his eyelids once again.


	15. Made to be Broken

The roads were a lot worse than he had expected them to be. He'd known there would be lots of snow being they were so far up north, but half the time he could barely make out the roads as he slowly navigated them to Ben's cabin. They were going barely five miles an hour and Brian was seriously beginning to question whether they'd even reach the cabin by nightfall. The only positive thing was that it was high unlikely that anyone would follow them. If it hadn't been such an extreme situation Brian wouldn't have even considered going so far north at that time of year.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Justin asked nervously as he peered at the snowy landscape which surrounded them.

Brian rolled his eyes and pointed to the sign on the side of the road ten yards in front of them. "Right there. Quadville, forty kilometers. We're almost there."

"It's a good thing we stopped for food in that last town 'cause it really doesn't look like there's any place to buy groceries the rest of the way," Justin mused as he followed the road with his eyes.

"Is food all you think about?" Brian smirked, glancing at Justin momentarily before turning his attention back to the road.

"When we're heading into the wilderness in the middle of winter, yes it is," Justin confirmed, laughter filling his voice. "I'd rather not become a part of a new Donner party. We need to have enough food to last us a while since the weather report said there was a snow storm coming."

Brian merely rolled his eyes, saying nothing. He wasn't really worried about being stuck up at the cabin since Ben and his family always made sure to stock the cupboards with canned food that would last the winter in case they decided to come for an unplanned visit. Justin didn't know that, though, and Brian had enjoyed grocery shopping with Justin. It was just so wonderfully normal to go grocery shopping. Brian couldn't even remember the last time he'd done something so simple.

It was around three o'clock when Brian finally pulled into the winding driveway that led up to the remote cabin. The relief that he felt at seeing the familiar sight was snatched away just as quickly when he saw a car packed along the side of the cabin.

"Brian.... “Justin moaned, staring at the vehicle with wide eyes.

Brian was just about to go tearing out of the driveway until he recognized a small sticker on the back window. A Carnegie Mellon faculty sticker.

"It's the professor," Brian sighed, resting his forehead against the steering wheel as he released a huge sigh of relief. "It's just Ben."

As if on cue, when Brian lifted his head the man in question appeared from around the shed in the yard. Ben spotted them almost immediately and lifted a hand. Brian offered up a tight smile in response and turned off the ignition. He remained seated in the Blazer for a few moments then opened the door and slid out into the snow.

"Hey, professor," Brian called as he slammed the door shut. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I was hoping that I'd see you here," was Ben's response.

Brian offered up a lop-sided smile and headed towards Ben, allowing himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. Despite his new feelings for Justin, Brian could still vividly remember being in love with Ben. He'd been ready to start a life with the college professor and give up his title as the stud of Liberty Avenue. Now it all seemed completely insane. His life was completely insane.

"Are you really all right?" Ben asked as he brought his arms back to his sides, before immediately crossing them over his chest.

Feeling suddenly defensive, Brian copied the position, pursing his lips in addition. "'M fine. I was driving, wasn't I?" It wasn't until he felt Justin's hand on his hip that Brian started to relax. "What are you doing here, Benjamin? Why'd you come up here?"

"I came here on the off chance that you would," Ben said honestly, smiling his little half-smile that Brian had always loved so much. "I knew that you would need some place to hide and hoped there was a chance you would come here."

"Well here I am," Brian said with a tongue in cheek smirk.

A sudden silence filled the yard, each man looking from one to the other. It was part uncomfortable, part not. Brian leaned closer to Justin, comforted by his presence even though being near Ben didn't really make him nervous.

"Any chance of us going inside to have this conversation?" Justin piped up, bouncing up and down alongside Brian.

The three of them made quick work of getting Brian and Justin's stuff into the cabin which was really more like a small house. There were three bedrooms, living room, den, kitchen and a finished basement. As far as Brian knew the only thing keeping Ben's parents from living there year round was the massive amounts of snow in the winter. And Brian was glad that they didn't live there year round because now he had a place to hide out with Justin and hopefully figure out just what the fuck was going on.

"How are you holding up?" Justin murmured as he set his bag down on the bed they were going to be sharing.

Brian pursed his lips as he sat down on the bed. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Justin moved to stand in front of Brian, placing both of his hands on the brunette's shoulders. "I'll buy it for now, but just remember that I'm here if you need to talk."

Before Brian had a chance to protest further, Justin leaned forward to touch their lips together soft lingering kiss then disappeared from the room. Brian remained seated on the bed, staring out the window at the snowy landscape that surrounded the house. The last time he'd been to the cabin he'd been staying in the master bedroom with Ben. They'd taken a week long vacation to celebrate Brian's promotion to partner and with the news that Ryder wanted to open an agency in New York and Ben's offer from Columbia the two had been getting ready to start a new life away from Pittsburgh. To Brian that trip had only been a few weeks ago.

Brian was tempted to stay hidden away in the bedroom, but knew that he needed to talk to Ben. There was still so much about the past four years that Brian didn't know. Brian wanted to know everything he could about Gus' life and anything else that would hopefully enable him to return his life to some semblance of normalcy. He knew that Justin had some fantasy about the two of them relocating to Mexico, but Brian refused to disrupt the blonde's life like that. Justin had already gone far above and beyond what was expected of anyone.

It was the smell of coffee that eventually drew Brian from the safety of the guest room. He wandered through the house, taking the long route to the kitchen. Despite knowing that it had been close to four years since he'd been in the cabin it still shocked him to see just how much the place had changed. Walls being repainted, new furniture, different paintings... it was all so different than it had been before.

Justin was perched on a stool pulled up to the island counter when Brian walked into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee set before him and was eating one of the cookies they'd bought on the way up to the cabin.

"Want one?" Justin asked, pushing the tray towards him as he swallowed what was in his mouth.

Snatching up one of the cookies, Brian slid into the seat next to Justin. "Good thing I got here when I did or else there wouldn't be any left."

"Smart ass," Justin grumbled before popping the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"So what you were two talking about?" Brian asked, fidgeting with the cookie rather than eating it. He was slightly nervous and hated himself all the more for it. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything. He was Brian Kinney for fuck's sake and Brian Kinney wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything.

"I was just asking Justin about his artwork," Ben informed him as he searched through the cupboards. "It sounds quite fascinating."

"You should see it," Brian spoke up, a broad smile finding its way to his face.

"That's high praise indeed coming from you," the professor grinned over his shoulder as he retrieved the box of tea bags he had undoubtedly been looking for. "You're the most critical person I've ever met. Worse than my editor."

"Your editor is a pussy," Brian responded automatically. "I hope that you got a new one."

"I got a new one," Ben confirmed with a nod of his head. "And this new one is almost as devious as you are."

Brian ducked his head down briefly, a smile tugging at his lips as he did his best to quell his automatic response his body and his emotions had to Ben. "Good, you deserve nothing but the best."

Ben offered up the small grin that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, an expression that Brian had always adored, and went back to making his tea. 

"So what's the real reason you're here?" Brian asked, breaking off a piece of the cookie and popping it into his mouth.

Pursing his lips, Ben dropped a tea bag into the empty mug. "Michael. Michael's been...."

"He's been his usual annoying self," Brian finished for him, frowning momentarily before he was able to once again adopt a mask of indifference.

"There's a little more to it than that," Ben admitted with a sigh.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian noticed Justin beginning to edge himself off the stool. Brian instinctively reached out, latching onto Justin's arm as he turned to face the artist. "Don't go," Brian whispered as he slid his hand up Justin's arm to cup the side of his throat.

Justin was silent, but allowed himself to be pulled back onto the stool. Brian did his best to keep the grateful expression from his face and failed. He knew that he failed when he saw the look of disappointment Ben was trying valiantly to conceal. As guilty as he felt for what his actions were doing to Ben, the truth of the matter was that he needed Justin there. With everything that had happened in the past few weeks, Justin was the only thing that was keeping him sane and grounded.

"Michael refuses to believe that you're... well you," Ben said into the ensuing silence. "Everyone else is pretty convinced-- even Melanie if you can believe it --but Michael won't stop insisting that you're some imposter. I couldn't take it anymore and since I couldn't very well ask him to leave his own home I decided to go away myself."

Even though he didn't want to be, Brian was hurt that his supposed best friend would rather believe him dead than chance him being alive. Brian simply couldn't fathom it. Michael was his best friend for fifteen years. For half of Brian's life until he had disappeared, Michael had been the one constant thing in his life; always standing by his side; always defending him.

A sudden thought crossed Brian's mind and his head shot up, eyes landing instantly on Ben. "How did you know I was locked up in the psych ward? The only person who knew was Justin and the person who filed the papers that got me locked up. So how do you know?"

"That's my fault," Justin spoke up, raising his left hand slightly. "I may have mentioned to Deb that you were in the hospital when I went to get some dinner the night I broke you out. Not intentionally, it just kinda happened."

Brian arched an eyebrow in Justin's direction. "'It just kinda happened?'"

"Exactly," Justin confirmed, smirking slightly. "I didn't go there intending to tell Deb anything. She just got me angry and I reacted."

"Nice to see that hasn't changed," Brian sighed, turning his attention back to the cookie in his hands and setting it down on the counter, barely touched.

"She still loves you, Brian," Ben insisted, coming to stand on the other side of the counter in the space between Brian and Justin. "She has a dinner for you on your birthday and still puts your stocking on the fireplace at Christmas. None of us wanted to believe that you were dead.... We didn't even get to see a body. Just some ashes and this."

Reaching into his pocket, Ben pulled out something and set it down on the counter. After staring at it in shock for a moment, Brian ran the tip of his right index finger over the slightly charred hemp cord. He flipped it over then and, sure enough, there were his initials carved into one of the shells. It was the cowry shell bracelet he'd bought in Mexico, a remembrance of the first real trip he'd ever gone on.

"Lindsay said that you were the one the police were talking to," Brian murmured, keeping his gaze fixated on the bracelet. "Do you know what happened to me?"

The things that Ben told him were nothing Brian hadn't read before. His car spun out of control, there was an explosion and Brian had supposedly died of smoke inhalation and extensive burns as well as head injuries sustained during the accident itself.

"The tattoo was the only way I could tell it was you in the pictures," Ben said, his voice shuddering out. "Every other part of you was... not something I ever want to see again."

"So you really couldn't tell that it was me?" Brian pressed, guiding the bracelet towards him with his index finger so that he was able to wind his fingers around it.

Ben shook his head, letting out a deep breath. "No. It was just the tattoo and you're bracelet and the fact that the clothes that were left were definitely designer. The person was wearing your Prada boots."

"But I was wearing my Prada boots in New York," Brian mumbled glancing down as though he could see his feet through the counter. "They took them at the hospital, but I had them in New York. There's no way they could have been on... whatever it was that was in the car."

Justin slipped his hand under Brian's shirt then, lightly rubbing the small of his back. Brian leaned back into the touch without making it too obvious.

"Jack and the Warden didn't find out about Gus, did they?" Brian asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. "He's still safe from them?"

"Gus has never had the pleasure of meeting his paternal grandparents," Ben assured him. "Lindsay was tempted to take him to your father's funeral, but Melanie and I were able to talk her out of it. I gave Lindsay those photo albums you had hidden away in the closet so that Gus would at least know what his family looks like. Where he comes from. He makes sure to tell everyone that he looks like his Dadda did when he was a kid."

A smile tugged at the corners of Brian's lips, pride for his son filling him. Brian only hoped that he would be able to spend more than an hour with Gus. He wanted to be able to get to know his son. He wanted to be able to get his life back. At the moment, though, both seemed so very far out of his reach.

"Your parents were the ones that told the police in San Francisco to have you cremated," Ben volunteered.

Brian started shaking his head while Ben was still talking. "No. That wouldn't happen. The Warden would never agree to have me cremated. The only reason I was born is because getting an abortion is a no no according to the Pope. Not having a body to be resurrected on Judgment Day is even worse."

A short while later the trio had dispersed to different parts of the cabin. Brian immediately made his way towards the guest room, stretching himself out on the bed going over the things he had learned from Ben. Unfortunately there wasn't really much of anything that he hadn't already known. Or much of anything that made sense. He couldn't figure out who his supposed brother was or how he'd ended up with the massive scar on his back. And even once he did discover what had happened during those three and a half years, getting his life back in order was going to be even more difficult now that Marty Ryder had sold the agency within a month of his death and retired to Hawaii. He brushed that information aside, remembering the owner of Vanguard making inquiries into buying out their agency in the weeks before his trip to San Francisco.

"How are you doing?" Justin asked as he appeared in the doorway.

Lifting his head off the pillow, Brian met Justin's gaze for a moment before allowing his head to flop back down. "I'm pretty sure I'm going insane. Or I'm already insane. I haven't quite figured out which one it is yet."

Justin padded silently across the room then crawled onto the bed next to Brian. Propping himself up on an elbow, he peered down at Brian. "You're not insane. You're far too coherent to be insane."

"That's reassuring," Brian smirked, rolling his eyes as he tugged Justin into his arms. The blonde snuggled against his side, draping an arm over his waist. "Will your family be upset if you're not home for Christmas?"

Turning his face to press a kiss to Brian's shoulder through the long sleeve tee he was wearing, Justin shook his head. "I wasn't planning on being there anyway. My dad and I aren't getting along right now so I was just going to stay home over the holidays instead of going to their place in Buffalo."

"So you wouldn't be opposed to staying here over Christmas?"

"Are you kidding me?" Justin grinned, his voice tinged with laughter. "This place is gorgeous. I'd stay up here all winter if I didn't know we had to go back to Pittsburgh. Ben says his parents won't be back up here till the end of April so we're definitely in no rush."

"I want to see Gus again," Brian added, turning onto his side so that he and Justin were lying chest to chest. "I don't want him to think that I abandoned him."

"Gus would never think that," Justin promised him. "I don't know Lindsay well, but I really don't think that she'd let Gus think you abandoned him now that she knows the truth."

With a sigh, Brian allowed his eyes to drift shut and allowed Justin's hands to soothe him into a relaxed state. He could feel himself starting to drift off and did nothing to stop it. In the back of his mind he knew that he was likely to have another nightmare, but he'd decided the day before that they were necessary. Those nightmares were the only hints he had about what had happened to him during those years he couldn't remember. And Brian desperately wanted to remember what had happened to him.

Resigning himself to the inevitable nightmares certainly made it easier for him to fall asleep. In any event, Justin's lips murmuring nonsensical things against his forehead definitely helped and it wasn't long before his body started to feel heavy as sleep consumed him.


	16. Made to be Broken

Justin stood leaning against the doorjamb outside the bedroom, staring at Brian as he napped. The past few nights had been difficult for the brunette and for Justin along with him. He knew that he didn't have it as bad as Brian since he didn't have to suffer through the nightmares. All that Justin had to do was hold onto Brian and attempt to coax him back into sleep when he woke up screaming. More often than not Brian wouldn't fall asleep after a nightmare which was why he was sleeping again in the middle of the afternoon.

Ben had left after staying only a week for which Justin was grateful because Brian's nightmares had started increasing. However there still wasn't enough to piece together exactly what had happened to Brian that night three and a half years ago and all the time in between. Most of Brian's nightmares were about white walls and hazy images that he couldn't quite make out.

"Get in here," Brian mumbled, blinking his eyes halfway open.

Levering himself away from the doorjamb, Justin crossed over to the bed and crawled in next to Brian. He kept a definite, if barely noticeable space between himself and Brian but within moments found himself grabbed up by the older man and pulled against him completely.

"I said 'here,' not almost here," Brian yawned as he nuzzled his face against the top of Justin's head.

"This close enough?" Justin asked after draping an arm over Brian's waist.

Brian was quiet for a moment then rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He was very pensive and Justin had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from saying anything. If Brian was going to say something, Justin didn't want to distract him and possibly force him into silence. 

"I'm pretty sure I got the scar on my back trying to escape once," Brian said after a while, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. "It was glass, I think. I dove through a window... climbed through, maybe. Yeah, I broke it first and there was a jagged piece left.... I left a trail and they found me again pretty damn quick."

Justin knew there was a lot Brian had left out, but he didn't push. He knew that Brian would tell him when he was ready, once he'd processed it enough himself. Brian did roll back onto his side so that they were lying chest to chest. Neither of them said anything and before long Justin could feel Brian's body relaxing into sleep. Justin, on the other hand, was trying his best to stay awake so that he would be able to watch over Brian and wake him if the nightmares returned.

The lack of sleep he'd had over the past few nights was starting to catch up with him, though, and Justin ended up falling asleep. It wasn't a very deep sleep, more a doze than anything, so Justin woke up immediately when he felt Brian shifting restlessly next to him. He was instantly awake and curled himself around Brian, sliding his fingers into Brian's hair. Justin mumbled nonsense, not fully aware of what he was saying, only that it seemed to be helping Brian who was quieting somewhat. Even after he was sure that Brian had settled back into a dreamless sleep, Justin continued to run his fingers through Brian's rumpled hair, hoping to keep him grounded in the present.

When he dozed off a second time, he woke to find Brian staring at him from the other side of the pillow. His eyes were half-lidded and fuzzy with sleep which meant that he hadn't been awake for long.

"Hey there," Justin murmured as he lifted his hand to push Brian's bangs from his face.

"Hey," Brian yawned, turning his face into the pillow until it ended. His face was still mostly pressed against the pillow when he spoke again. "Vance was in San Francisco."

Justin arched a brow in confusion. "Vance?"

"The guy who wanted to buy out my agency," Brian mumbled, his eyes taking on a far away expression. "He showed up at my room the last night I remember.... Just before everything goes black."

That caught Justin's attention right away and be moved his head back so that he could better see Brian's face. "Do you think that Vance had anything to do with what happened to you?"

Brian scrubbed a hand over his face, shaking in the negative. "No. If he wanted the agency so bad he would have kept me on. I was the best in the business. It wouldn't make any sense to kill me."

"Would you have ever agreed to sell the agency?" Justin countered as he slithered his hand around to cup the back of Brian's throat, massaging the tight muscles there.

"Not on Vance's terms. I'd just made full partner and there was no way I was going to give that all up," Brian said immediately. "I was working on the biggest accounts of my career. I was getting ready to start up a second agency in New York.... There was no way I was going to let Vance get his hands on the company and ruin all that."

"But Ryder would have sold it?"

Brian nodded his head, his forehead touching Justin's so that the blonde felt the movement in its entirety. "In a heartbeat. Ryder was all for early retirement."

Justin stayed silent that time, fearing the worst but was unable to voice those thoughts. He didn't know anything about big businesses. Justin was only a small time artist who sold his work at a small time gallery. The only thing he ever had to worry about was getting his paintings to his agent on time. He should have had his latest ones in a week ago, but a discreet phone call while Brian had been napping had bought him an extension. One that Brian knew nothing about because the other man would only feel guilty about it.

Since Brian had fallen silent, Justin decided not to push him. The two men continued to lay side by side, Justin's fingers playing with Brian's hair while Brian's fingers were dancing along his back. At first Brian had been incredibly tense, his body lying rigidly alongside Justin's. Slowly that tenseness began to fade and Justin found himself wound tight in Brian's arms.

"The weather report said that there was probably going to be a big storm Christmas Eve," Justin murmured as he tucked his head under Brian's chin. "We should probably head into town tomorrow to stock up just in case we're stranded here while they dig us out."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Brian chuckled, squeezing Justin momentarily.

Justin was quiet for a moment and then, "But I thought you wanted to go home."

"I do," Brian admitted, nodding his head. "I want to see Gus again, but I'm really not liking the way things are starting to look. Marty's a good guy and I'd rather not head back to the Pitts without really knowing what's going on."

Aside from those tense moments when Brian was waking up after a nightmare, things were good at the cabin. They could simply unwind after what had been a seemingly endless week. It was almost inconceivable to Justin that less than a week had passed from the time Brian had woken up in his living room until they fled Pittsburgh. Even without the mystery of the past three and a half years looming overhead that week would have been difficult for anyone.

If for no other reason, Justin was glad that Ben had come to the cabin because he had brought some of Brian's things with him. And some things that weren't Brian's. Including half a dozen photo albums documenting Gus' life. Brian had spent countless hours staring at those snapshots of his son. Watching him grow up through someone else's eyes. It was more than Brian had before, though, and that he would not have had except for Lindsay's desire to photograph every aspect of Gus' life.

Another thing Ben had brought was Brian's personal laptop. It hadn't been touched since Brian had left for San Francisco and contained far more than the business one that had gone with him on the cross-country trip. The one that Ben had returned to him also contained all of the research Brian had done on Gardner Vance and Vanguard following the offer on Ryder, Kinney & Associates. So while Justin spent hours sketching with his newly bought charcoals, Brian went through all of the information he'd gathered on Vance before and what he could find when he hooked his laptop up to the cabin's net connection.

Justin didn't press Brian for any information, waiting instead for the older man to offer it himself. From time to time he would receive bits and pieces of information when Brian would mutter things aloud in the midst of his research.

_".... Junior partner Gardner Vance takes lead after owner’s death...."_

_".... Vanguard swallows up several struggling local agencies...."_

_".... underhanded tactics to win accounts...."_

_".... Vanguard headhunters stalk campuses...."_

_".... eager to expand east coast operations...."_

Even without reading the full documents, Brian's mumbling was painting was not a very positive one. Gardner Vance sounded like a very devious business man who had no qualms about using devious methods. Whether he would stoop to orchestrating the false death of a competitor was what Justin was unsure of. The only problem was that he couldn't completely rule out the possibility either. He had read far too many articles in Time and Newsweek to be that naive.

By the time Christmas rolled around, Brian's tension had reached its peak. Between the nightmares and his inability to find a different solution to his half-remembered disappearance Brian was very close to the breaking point. Justin did what he could, but he knew that only a resolution would calm Brian down. So instead he distracted Brian in other ways.

Justin pressed his hands against the slick tile wall of the shower, arching his back as Brian gripped his hips and slowly thrust into him. He didn't bother to hold in the groan that welled up in his throat as Brian's cock rubbed against sensitive inner tissues. Instead Justin leaned his head forward, resting his cheek against the cool tiles as Brian's chest was pressed against his back. With a quick tug on his hips, Brian changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting Justin's prostrate dead on. He cried out then, scrabbling for purchase on the slick tiles and settling for bringing one hand back to clutch at Brian's hip. Turning his head over his shoulders, Justin immediately found his lips captured by Brian's in a breath stealing kiss.

Christmas dawned with filtered sunlight, a warm glow filling their room. Justin woke first and stayed put to watch Brian who had his face mashed into the pillow. For the first time in weeks there was no tension in Brian's features and Justin dared to hope that Brian's sleep had been nightmare free.

"Merry Christmas," Justin murmured once Brian had blinked his eyes open.

Brian immediately groaned and buried his face back in the pillow. "You're one of those people, aren't you?"

Justin grinned at the side of his head, snuggling closer. "What kind of person?"

"The kind that is excessively cheerful at Christmas," Brian grumbled, wiggling himself deeper into the bedding.

"Not excessively, but I do enjoy Christmas a lot," Justin conceded as he flopped onto his back, keeping his gaze on Brian all the while.

Brian was still for several minutes before more or less crawling on top of Justin. He was still, not speaking or moving, and Justin brought his arms up to hold Brian securely to him. All that Brian did was snuggle closer and the two spent much of the morning drifting in and out of sleep. Nightmare free sleeps. It was because Brian was finally able to sleep so easily that Justin made no move to get up even when he became restless.

It was just after noon when the two men finally stumbled out of the bedroom. While Brian set about building a fire in the fireplace, Justin made them something to eat. They hadn't really made any plans to celebrate Christmas, but Justin still felt the urge to make some type of effort to at least make the day stand out from the rest. So he compiled their brunch of entirely finger foods, hoping to entice Brian to have a picnic of sorts in the living room.

"You don't need to make a feast," Brian said as he entered the kitchen while Justin was still making the French toast. "I'd have been fine with a cup of coffee."

"Coffee!" Justin startled. "I forgot the coffee. Could you make some, Brian?"

As Brian walked past him, he placed his hands on Justin's hips, touching his lips to Justin's temple. "Coffee, coming up.... I thought you said that we weren't doing anything special today?"

Justin merely rolled his eyes. "French toast is hardly anything special. It's just easier to eat than without a fork than pancakes."

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Brian chuckled as he fiddled around in the cupboard for the coffee filters.

"Well I really don't want to be cutting things up when we're eating in front of the fireplace," Justin said matter of factly.

There was no immediate response from Brian so Justin glanced in his direction out of the corner of his eye. The older man was smirking, but he was otherwise silent. Justin couldn't contain his own grin and went back to preparing the French toast. It was just such a nice domestic situation and Justin wanted it to last as long as possible. He didn't want to have to go back to the real world and deal with things like the possibility that Gardner Vance had arranged to make it look like Brian was dead.

"Can you fill that little bowl up with syrup," Justin ordered when Brian came to lean against the counter next to him. "Stick it in the microwave for about thirty seconds too."

Brian did as instructed then came back to lean his hip against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "If you're doing all this for breakfast I'm worried about what you have planned for dinner."

"Frozen pizza. The ones we picked up at the gas station in town," Justin said, flashing Brian a wide grin. "I haven't had pizza in weeks and I've been craving it."

"So I have to eat pizza because you're craving it?" Brian asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Unless you'd like to take over the cooking detail of our little trip, most definitely," Justin laughed unrepentantly. "Besides, everyone could use some pizza once in a while."

Reaching over, Brian squeezed his fingers around the back of Justin's throat momentarily. "I'm gonna go bring some more firewood in while you finish your cooking, Wolfgang."

Knowing that it would take Brian a few minutes to lug the firewood inside, Justin finished up the last piece of French toast and put a small saucepan on the still hot burner. Snatching up the chocolate bar he'd hidden in one of the cupboards for an emergency chocolate fix and broke it up in the pan. Justin stirred it quickly, hoping to melt the chocolate to a nice creamy state as fast as possible. Leaving it momentarily when he heard Brian reenter the cabin, Justin cut up the French toast into long strips and put it, the bowl of syrup, some already peeled clementines and a sliced pear on the tray. On his way to get some coffee cups, Justin took the chocolate off the burner and turned off the stove.

"I'll be out in a minute, Bri!" Justin called over his shoulder as he poured the coffee. "Just stay by the fire and warm up!"

After receiving an affirmative from Brian, Justin brought the two mugs back to the stove and proceeded to mix some of the melted chocolate into each cup. When he had them as mixed as possible he got the can of whipped cream from the fridge and added it on top of his homemade mochas.

"Time to fuel up before we fuck again," Justin said as he entered the living room with the food laden tray.

"A man after my own heart," Brian chuckled, setting the fireplace poker in its stand and turning around to face Justin. He caught sight of the mugs then and arched an eyebrow. "And just what are those supposed to be?"

"Mochas," Justin answered simply.

"You made mochas?"

Justin shrugged, holding the tray to Brian who was already seated on the floor. "I didn't know how to make lattes."

Brian shook his head but remained silent. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, though, and Justin couldn't help but return it. "If I wasn't worried about my waistline, I'd keep you around permanently."

"So you're gonna kick me out?" Justin said with a put on smile.

"Twat," Brian murmured affectionately as he dipped his index finger into the heated syrup. Making sure that the majority of it had dribbled off, Brian lifted his hand to Justin's lips, attempting to distract the blonde when he continued with, "I want you around for a long time."

Justin grinned around the digit in his mouth, using his tongue to swipe all of the syrup from Brian's index finger. He dipped his head back, sucking on the very end of the finger before he released the wet digit to the air. "I plan on being around for as long as you'll let me."

Brian's hand cupped his cheek, the wet finger cool against his cheek. He didn't say anything, but stared intently at Justin's face for several long minutes. Justin wasn't entirely sure what Brian was looking for so he remained completely still in hopes that Brian would find what he was looking for. Without tightening his grip, Brian drew Justin's face towards his. Their lips met over the tray of food, the kiss soft and lingering.

The meal proved to be a success. In between bites of their own selected tidbits, they fed each other syrup laden mouthfuls of French toast and apples, talking about the inconsequential things all the while. For that little while they were able to forget about everything else that was going on. It was just the two of them, talking, laughing and generally flirting a whole lot to see who could withstand the longest.

Needless to say, Justin lost.

"Evil. Evil. Eevvilll...." Justin moaned as Brian drizzled a line of syrup along the center of his chest. "It's supposed to be for the French toast."

"But we finished that," Brian said with an unrepentant grin. "Right now it's time to play."

Justin laughed outright at that, squirming as Brian's tongue circled his nipple. Brian had him so thoroughly distracted that he didn't realize right away when his sweatpants were tugged down over his hips then removed. He stretched himself out on the rug, grinning up at Brian who was hovering over him on his elbows.

"How come I'm the only one of us who's naked?" Justin demanded, sliding his fingers into Brian's hair as the other man began to kiss his way down his torso.

Brian twirled his tongue in Justin's navel for a few moments before raising his head. "Because right now it's my turn to open my Christmas present."

Running a fingertip over Brian's cheek, Justin quirked a smile. "I'm a Christmas present now?"

"Merry Christmas to me," Brian murmured before he wrapped his lips around the head of Justin's cock.


	17. Made to be Broken

To be on the safe side they had decided to stay in Canada until after the new year. Brian would have liked to have gone back sooner to see his son, but he didn't want to risk getting dragged back to the psych ward before he could make Vance pay for taking away nearly four years of his life. Justin's quickly improving computer skills had come in handy and they had been able to track down enough evidence to at least hint at Vance's involvement in his "death." The only problem was that Brian knew that he couldn't trust the Pittsburgh police department.

"You ready to get out of here?" Justin murmured as he appeared at the doorway that led into the bedroom.

Brian scratched at the base of his skull as he slowly turned to face the blonde. Now that he was faced with the reality of them leaving, Brian found himself unwilling to go. "Not really, but we can't stay here forever. Ben's parents will show up back here eventually."

Justin grinned broadly and stepped further into the room. "Then we'll just have to break in next Christmas when we know they won't be here."

"You do realize that's a year from now, right?"

The blonde's smile never wavered. "Well I'm all for it if you are. I don't have any other plans for next Christmas."

Brian merely shook his head in amazement. "How in the fuck do people like you still exist?"

"We just do," Justin shrugged as he pressed himself against Brian's chest, winding his arms about the taller man's waist. "Now, come on, I'd rather get past the worst of the roads before dark."

Brian arched an eyebrow at that. "I don't recall saying that you were going to be doing the driving."

Reaching into the right front pocket of his jeans, Justin pulled out the keys to the Blazer, jingling them. "If I recall rightly, it's my vehicle ergo I decide who drives. For the first part of the trip that's gonna be me."

"Brat."

Justin bumped his forehead against Justin's chin then slid out of his arms. "Let's go, Brian. You've got a little boy back in Pittsburgh who's desperate to see you. And, quite frankly, I'd like to warm up sometime before the April thaw."

Brian snorted in amusement. "You live in upstate New York and you're complaining about the cold?"

"This is practically the Arctic, of course I'm cold," Justin protested. "Now can we go? The sooner we get back to Pittsburgh, the sooner you can see Gus and get your life back in order."

Tempting as all of that sounded, Brian was nervous about going back to Pittsburgh. He wanted to trust Ben, but he honestly wasn't sure if he could trust him or any of the rest of his family. Someone had to have told the police about his return and the only people that Brian had seen was his family. Brian's immediate suspect was Mel. The woman was highly territorial and he wouldn't have put it past her to have him locked up to keep him away from Lindsay and Gus.

Deceptively strong, narrow-fingered hands came up to hold his face and instantly Justin had his full attention. The blonde didn't say anything, though. He merely stared up at Brian's face, his right thumb rubbing lightly across his cheekbone. There was something very intense about Justin's gaze. It was almost as though he was trying to memorize Brian's face.

"I love this little dip right here above you lip," Justin murmured, sliding his thumb along the little valley of flesh that connected the bottom of his nose to his upper lip. Then he touched the pad of his thumb between Brian's eyebrows. "I love the way your eyebrows get all crinkled when you're annoyed. They way that your eyes only ever open half way for the first hour after you've woken up.... I could spend the rest of my life painting you and I would never get bored."

Brian reached his hand up, sliding his fingers through the longer strands of Justin's hair, and huffed out a deep sigh. He bowed his head forward so that his forehead rested against Justin's. He was constantly amazed by the younger man. In his entire life, Brian had never known anyone to be so trusting and so open as Justin. Or anyone who would have fought so hard for him. The two of them had known each other for barely six weeks and Justin had been fighting tooth and nail since that very first week.

"You okay, Bri?" Justin murmured, lifting his hands to frame Brian's cheeks.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Brian nodded his head. "'M fine. Just enjoying the last few minutes of peace we're going to have for a while."

"Everything is going to be okay," Justin whispered as he held Brian tight to him. "We'll get all of this sorted out and you can have your life back."

Brian moved his head back so that he was once again able to meet Justin's eyes. There was no doubting the confidence he saw there. Justin fully believed everything that he was saying which completely amazed Brian.

"And what about you?" Brian asked, nuzzling his nose against the side of Justin's. "What about your life? You have your art and your family... you have an entire life waiting for you. We could always take the Niagara Falls route back to Pittsburgh and drop you off on the way."

A moment later Brian yelped in pain as Justin bit his lower lip none too gently. He jumped back and touched his lip, expecting to see blood when he drew his hand away. There wasn't any and when Brian opened his mouth to rebuke his lover he found Justin glaring at him. The blonde took hold of his cheeks, forcing Brian to meet his angry gaze.

"Stop trying to push me away, Brian. I'm just as involved in this as you are. Or as close to it as I can be since I wasn't the one locked up for three and a half years. But the fact remains that I'm involved in this, Brian. In case you've forgotten I broke you out of a psych ward. That could get me in a whole lot of trouble if they figure out that it was me which they probably will. I was there every day, fighting with Bledso just to get to see you."

Brian's eyes slid shut once again as he released a ragged sigh.

"I'm not going to walk away from you if there's even the slightest chance that something like that can happen to you again," Justin insisted, his hands firm against Brian's cheeks. "I love you, Brian. That means sticking by you for the hard stuff too. Got it?"

For several long minutes Brian could only stare at Justin. Then he felt himself nodding, dipping his head down so that his lips brushed against Justin's with the movement. "I got it."

"I'm glad to hear it," the younger man whispered, kissing Brian softly before he pulled away. "Now let's get you home."

Allowing Justin to think that he was getting his way, Brian didn't say anything about crossing the border at Niagara Falls. He wanted Justin to have the option of going home even if the blonde refused to admit that he wanted to return to something that was normal. Brian wanted to give Justin back his life. It was the least he could do considering everything Justin had done for him in the past few weeks.

So when they neared Hamilton, Brian turned off onto the QEW which would take them to Niagara Falls rather than further south towards the Windsor/Detroit crossing. The blonde had been dozing on and off so it was more than an hour before he realized that his carefully planned route had been altered and glared at Brian from the passenger seat.

"I told you that we didn't need to go to New York," Justin grumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face briefly. "This is about you, Brian."

"I am sick of it being about me," Brian ground out, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I want just one day where I don't have to think about what shit my life is right now. What I want is to get on a plane to Ibiza to drink and fuck my way through all the hot guys there. But since I can't do that right now, I'll settle for being able to take you home for at least a few days."

For several long minutes Justin was completely silent. Both men stared out the windshield as Brian drove them still closer to the border crossing. Eventually, though Justin didn't alter the direction of his gaze, Brian felt his lover's hand come to rest upon his where it rested on the gear shift. When Brian spread his fingers, Justin's slid between them and Brian squeezed the slender artist's digits between his own.

Once again luck was on their side and they were able to get over the border with only a cursory glance at their IDs. It was after midnight when they pulled into Justin's driveway, both of them surprised to see another car already sitting in the driveway. Brian's grip tightened on the steering wheel until Justin made an annoyed sound.

"I thought I took my key back," the blonde groaned as he forcefully unfastened his seatbelt. "Damn it. What the fuck is she doing here?"

While Brian watched on, Justin heaved himself from the vehicle and stormed towards the house. Justin looked positively furious and Brian had no idea why. He found himself almost nervous to enter the house, not sure what he would find on the other side of the door.

Deciding not to be a coward, Brian unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door. Almost immediately he heard the sounds of shouting and hurried his pace, fearing that Justin was in danger. He burst into the house at a sprint and nearly went crashing into Justin who was only a few feet inside of the door. In the middle of the living room was a well-dressed woman whose face was locked in a very refined scowl.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Brian Kinney," Justin said sharply as he placed his hands overtop of Brian's which were already resting on the blonde's hips. "Brian, this is my mother, Jennifer Taylor."

Jennifer nodded briefly at Brian before her eyes returned to her son. "And just who is he? Where have you been? And _what_ are you doing with that hideous car in the driveway?"

"I already told you who he is," Justin said tightly, his fingers squeezing Brian's almost painfully. "Where I was isn't your concern and that hideous car in the driveway is mine. Now will you please leave, mother. Brian and I had some plans and we can't very well do them with you in the living room."

"Justin!" his mother shrieked then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

Brian, on the other hand, merely smirked, not having been aware that Justin was planning on fucking him in the living room. He nuzzled his nose into Justin's hair, turning his head just enough so that his lips brushed against the shell of his lover's ear. Brian knew that he was only doing it to antagonize the woman, but he was relieved to feel Justin relax and lean back against him.

"Do you even know this man, Justin?" Jennifer demanded, her hands wringing about flustered. "I mean, really... I've never heard you mention him to me before."

"I'm a grown man, I don't have to tell you everything about my life. If I want to go to Canada and get married, I'll go to Canada and get married!"

Startled as he was by Justin's words, Brian did his best not to react to it. It helped that he was standing behind the blonde because he was able to hide his face in the silky blonde strands. 

"Married?! What do you think you're doing getting married?!" Jennifer Taylor cried in shock as she slumped down onto the lumpy armchair in the living room. "You're too young to get married."

Justin snorted at that, leaning still further into Brian. "In case you've forgotten, mom, you were twenty-two when you got married and were twenty-four when you had me. I'm twenty-six. I think that entitles me to get married whenever I choose. I chose to go to Canada over Christmas and get married. It's that simple."

"You do realize that it's not legal here? You're not really married," Jennifer pointed out, her shock giving way to barely concealed rage.

"Legal or not, it still happened," Brian shrugged, stepping around so that he and Justin stood shoulder to shoulder.

Jennifer pursed her lips and rose slowly to her feet. "Don't tell your father about this, Justin. Or your sister. I hope that you'll have come to your senses and will have put this foolishness behind you soon."

"I don't think so, mother," Justin growled, straightening as much as he was able. Trying to make himself as tall as Brian despite the six or seven inches that differentiated their height. "Now can you please leave. I really don't feel like arguing with you when I could be getting fucked by my husband."

There was no containing Brian's amused snort as Jennifer Taylor blanched completely at her son's words. Gathering up her purse and her coat, the woman hurried past the two of them without acknowledging her son. There was a slam of the door and a car started up before either man moved. Immediately Brian noticed that Justin was trembling and pulled the smaller man into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Brian," Justin moaned into his shoulder. "I don't know what I was thinking telling my mother that."

"Don't worry about it, Justin."

"Brian, I told my mother that we were married," the artist groaned as he slipped out of Brian's grasp. " _Married._ I think I've lost my mind."

"No, Justin, that's me," Brian smirked, watching the blonde as he stalked across the living room towards the kitchen. When the blonde disappeared from sight, Brian followed after him, shedding his coat along the way. "You don't have anything to be upset about. When this is all over you can just--"

There was no sign of Justin in the kitchen. Frowning momentarily, Brian continued on to the sunroom at the back of the house that served as Justin's studio. He was sitting on a stool in the center of the room, idly fumbling with a paintbrush.

"You okay?" Brian murmured from the doorway, leaning against the wooden jamb.

"You regretting making a stop here yet?" Justin snorted, scrubbing a hand over his face.

A smile curving his lips, Brian heaved himself away from the jamb with his shoulder and took a step further into the room. "Pretending to be married to you is a small price to pay considering everything you've done for me. It really isn't that much of a hardship."

"Even with that for a mother-in-law?" the younger man smirked, arching an eyebrow.

Brian returned the smirk. "You haven't met my mother. And I pray that you never do."

Putting a bit more swagger into his step, Brian stalked silently across the room, pulling the tight black tee over his head as he moved. When Justin started to laugh, Brian arched an eyebrow, but continued until he was standing directly in front of the blonde. Staying for enough away so that he wasn't touching Justin in any way, Brian slid his thumbs beneath the waist of his jeans, bringing them together behind the button and fanned his fingers out on either side of his fly.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Justin grinned as he ran the paintbrush in his hands up the center of the older man's chest.

With a silent shrug, Brian deftly flipped open the button and slowly pulled the two sides apart, forcing the zipper open. As more skin was revealed, Justin trailed the paintbrush down further before swiping it back up Brian's torso.

Then, with a wink, Brian turned and left the sunroom. Behind him, he could hear Justin's outraged gasp and grinned broadly. Once he was in the kitchen and out of sight of the sunroom, Brian toed off his sneakers and a few steps later removed his socks. In the hallway leading the bathroom and bedrooms, he slipped out of his jeans. His boxer briefs were shed directly between the two bedroom doors and slipped into the guest room, shutting the door behind him.

With a flourish, Brian sprawled himself out on the bed, left hand behind his head and his right one resting on his stomach. He was close enough to the edge of the bed that he could set his left foot on the ground, his right leg bent, foot flat on the mattress. Brian lazily stroked his hand along his stomach while he waited for Justin to show up. The door to Justin's bedroom opened and Brian found himself smirking once again. He'd pretty much expected that Justin would try his bedroom first and hadn't gone in himself for partially that reason. 

On his second attempt, Justin managed to find the right room. "My bed is more comfortable, you know."

Brian brought his right hand up to inspect his nails, shrugging slightly. "That's your room. I've never been invited in so I thought it would be more polite to hang out in this room."

Justin arched an eyebrow at that as he slid further into the room. "Well, for future reference, feel free to enter it whenever you feel like it. It's a bit of a mess, though, papers and books and whatnot, so just ignore the mess if you do decide to venture in."

"I'll keep that in mind," Brian murmured, holding his hand out towards his lover. Shedding his clothes along the way, Justin walked towards his outstretched hand, slipping his fingers through Brian's once he was close enough. With a quick tug, Brian pulled Justin down on top of him, the artist barely catching himself at the last moment in order to save himself from dropping his full weight on top of him.

It was very slow and sensuous, their mutual seduction of one another. Palms and fingertips gliding over skin as they rose up to kneel in the center of the bed. Neither one made any attempt to dominate, enjoying instead the fluttering pressure of each caress. Lips and tongues joined in soon after. Brian could feel his muscles becoming more tense with each touch and craved that tension as it spiraled him higher and higher.

Hours later the two of them were sprawled in a tangled heap on Justin's bed, the dark blue duvet covering them. Justin had dozed off some time ago, but Brian's mind was too busy for him to rest. If luck remained with him, in a few days, a week at the most, he would have his life back. Only Brian was no longer certain just what that life was. Before his supposed death, he'd been Brian Kinney, stud of Liberty Avenue. He could, and did, fuck anyone he wanted. He'd had a loft filled with European furniture, designer clothes, and more money than he knew what to do with.

Brian fucking Kinney.

In his sleep, Justin snuffled, his warm breath ghosting across Brian's stomach where his head rested. Sliding his fingers through Justin's rumpled blonde hair, Brian coaxed him back into a deeper slumber. When he was certain that Justin was sleeping soundly, Brian carefully extracted himself from his lover's grasp, arms and legs free with only a few graceful motions. Dressing equally soundlessly, Brian left the bedroom and headed towards the back of the house.

There was a sketchbook resting open in front of a blank canvas on the easel and on one of the tables that lined the walls a pen. Sitting himself down on the stool that Justin had been using earlier, Brian began to write.


	18. Made to be Broken

It was rolling into a cold spot that woke Justin up. Waking up took a few minutes, his head fuzzy from not enough sleep. What he knew immediately, though, was that Brian was no longer in the bed.

"Bri?"

The silence that answered him had Justin instantly worried. Wiggling his way out of the sheets, Justin called Brian's name a second time. He scooped his jeans up off the ground and slid them on before he left the bedroom just in case.... Justin didn't want to think about what could have happened to Brian, but the truth was that the possibility existed. For all that he knew Brian could have been taken. Or he could have done what he'd been threatening and went back to Pittsburgh on his own. If that was the case he had every intention of kicking Brian's narrow ass.

"Brian, where are you? I'm serious, Bri, you'd better answer me," Brian called, his voice not much louder than a stage whisper, as he crept down the hallway towards the living room. "Brian Kinney, get your ass out here now this isn't funny."

There was still no answer from Brian.

He was turning towards the kitchen when he noticed that the front door was slightly ajar. Panic gripping him, Justin raced to the front door. Yanking the door open the rest of the way, Justin slammed through the screen door and onto the porch barefoot.

"Brian!"

"Ow. Fuck."

"Brian?"

Whirling back around to face the house, Justin came face to face with Brian who was rubbing his left arm. Justin stared at Brian for a long minute before launching himself into Brian's arms.

"Don't fucking scare me like that again," Justin said against his throat.

"Easy there, Sunshine," Brian murmured as his arms came around Justin. "Come on, let's go back inside. You're gonna end up with pneumonia if you stay out here."

Justin was already shivering as Brian guided him into the house. The cement was cold under his bare feet and he all but jumped onto the rug just inside the front door. His earlier fear was giving way to anger. He was furious with Brian for scaring him like that, but he still couldn't seem to let go of the older man.

"What were you doing outside?" Justin asked as Brian sat him down on the couch. "It's the middle of the night and it's fucking freezing outside."

Brian gathered the blonde into his arms, trying to warm him up even though Brian was equally as cold. The shared body heat was a definite advantage, though. "I needed a smoke. I didn't think you'd wake up."

"The bed got cold," Justin yawned, his exhaustion returning now that the immediate threat to Brian had faded. "And then when I saw the door open...."

"Sorry about that. I just really needed to clear my head."

"You don't need to apologize for something like that," Justin insisted, tilting his head up so that he could see Brian's face. "I overreacted a bit anyway so we're both a bunch of idiots."

Justin was still a bit uneasy, but that had faded almost entirely. Brian was sitting right next to him, obviously all right, so there was no reason for him to worry. It was difficult, though, after everything else that had been going on since the night that Justin had discovered lying on his front porch. He and Brian may have figured out what had happened nearly four years ago, but they were still far from proving it and Justin wouldn't feel safe until they were able to prove their theories true.

They stayed on the couch for the rest of the night, curled around each other and staring out of the front window. The landscape outside the front window slowly began to lighten, the darkness fading into the glittering pre-dawn light. Periodically Justin would doze off, but he would never sleep deep enough for it to be really noticeable.

"I have something that I need you to do for me," Brian murmured, ghosting his left hand across Justin's stomach.

Twisting his head around, Justin angled his head so that he could see Brian's face. "You know I'll do whatever you need."

"You might not agree so quick when--"

"If you want me to stay here while you go back to Pittsburgh the answers no," Justin immediately cut in, shaking his head. "I'm going with you, Brian, and you can't stop me."

Sighing, Brian burrowed his face into the crook of Justin's throat. "I don't know what's going to happen, Justin, and I would much rather you stay here until I've got things under control."

"While Vance has you carted off somewhere else for another four years? Fuck that, Brian," Justin growled vehemently. He lurched forward, out of Brian's arms, and turned around, straddling Brian's thighs, so that he could see the other man's face. "Unless you plan on drugging me and locking me in the closet I'm going with you."

"Justin...."

He leaned forward, framing Brian's face between his palms to make sure that the dark-haired man was meeting his eyes. "How many times do we have to go through this, Brian? Don't you get it? I love you, Brian. I want you safe and around for a long time. That means I go with you because I don't trust anyone else to look after you."

Brian didn't argue after that, but Justin knew that he wasn't done trying to talk him out of staying in New York. Once the sun had risen completely, Brian wiggled his way out from behind Justin, claiming that he needed to take a shower. Justin offered to go with him and scrub his back. Brian merely smiled, touching his lips to Justin's in a brief kiss.

Flopping back onto the couch, Justin watched as Brian disappeared around the corner into the hallway. Justin was tempted to follow after him regardless. He nearly got up a few times before he heard the shower start, but in the end stayed on the couch. Twisting about onto his side, Justin scanned the top of the coffee table for the remote. As annoyed with her as he'd been the day before, Justin was momentarily glad that his mother had shown up the day before otherwise everything would have been covered in a sheet of dust. It had been more than a month since he'd been home. Strange. That little house had been his safe haven when he was recovering after his attack. He could hide away for days and pretend that the world outside his front door didn't exist. 

While he was searching for the remote, Justin was surprised when his fingers brushed against a sketchbook that he knew shouldn't have been there. Justin never left sketchbooks for the sole fact that his mother liked to snoop. Giving up his search for the remote, Justin slid the sketchbook into his grasp, curious as to which one it was. The last thing he'd expected was a folded piece of paper to drop down from under it. A letter addressed to him. Leaving the sketchbook hanging half off the table, Justin scooped the letter up from the ground, falling onto his back as he began to unfold it.

_Justin, I figure you'll find this eventually. If you haven't come chasing after me anyway. I hope you're not coming after me. I want you away from all of this, Justin. There's this huge part of me that wishes I'd never brought you into it. Then there's the selfish part that's glad you came because it means you're with me. That I haven't been doing all this shit by myself. If you weren't so stubborn I'd still be strapped to a bed in that psych ward._

_I want you to be safe, Justin. And I know that if you come with me you won't be safe. So I'm hoping that you'll stay here and let me do this on my own and that when this is all over I can come back here and get you. Or if I can't come back, that you'll give Gus the letter I wrote for him._

_Please don't be mad at me. Brian._

Justin was sitting up by the time he finished reading the letter and a quick glance to the coffee revealed a folded letter addressed to Gus peeking out from the edge of the sketchbook. Justin picked the letter up but didn't read it. It wasn't addressed to him. Setting both the letters back onto the table, Justin pushed himself up off the couch intending to make some coffee. He had just loading the coffee grinds into the filter when he thought he heard the front door close. The shower was still running, though. 

A sudden fear formed in the pit of Justin's stomach as he slowly turned back towards the living room. He was still in the kitchen when he heard the engine of the Blazer start.

"Son of a bitch."

Sprinting through the living room, Justin threw open the front door and launched himself onto the porch just in time to see Brian pulling the Blazer out of the driveway. Brian paused momentarily as he backed onto the street, meeting Justin's eyes with a sad smile before accelerating into town.

"Brian!" Justin shouted, running barefoot onto the driveway. "Brian, get back here! Brian!"

Justin felt his feet start to go numb before Brian even reached the corner and he was forced to retreat back into the house, still cursing Brian. Cursing himself at the same time. He'd known that Brian was going to do something to get him to stay in New York, but he'd hoped that it wouldn't be quite so drastic. Some more arguments, possibly some ones that ended with the two of them in bed, but nothing too serious. Nothing like Brian driving away in his only means of transportation.

"Goddamn it, Brian," Justin cursed, scrubbing his fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth across the living room. "Goddamn fucking son of a bitch. What the fuck were you thinking? Fucking asshole."

He could still hear the shower running so Justin stalked into the bathroom with every intention of turning off the faucet. A wave of steam swooped down on him as he opened the door, instantly dampening his flesh. Once he was actually in the room Justin noticed the mirror right away. More importantly, he noticed the word "sorry" scrawled across the center of it in Brian's flowing script.

Seeing it, Justin felt his eyes tear up. Brian had only been gone for a few minutes, but Justin was terrified. Whether Vance was responsible or someone else, Brian had been locked away twice. He had been hurt too much. His body and mind bore the scars to prove it. Justin showered quickly, washing away the evidence from the activities he and Brian had enjoyed the night before. His movements were brisk and measured, wanting to get on the road as soon as possible. He had to get to Pittsburgh before Brian got himself in trouble again.

An hour later, Justin was showered, dressed, and was waiting for the taxi that was going to take him to the train station. He would have preferred to fly, but there was no direct flight to Pittsburgh until the following afternoon. That was far too late if he was going to stand any chance of saving Brian from himself, let alone saving him from Vance.

With nothing else to do while he waited for the taxi to arrive, Justin listened to the messages that had accumulated on his answering machine in the more than a month since he'd left to go to Pittsburgh with Brian. As he'd expected, there were half a dozen messages from his mother wondering where he was as well as several from the owner of the gallery he was supposed to be having a show at. Justin cursed silently when he heard the first of those, having completely forgotten about that commitment.

"Justin, sweetheart, I love you, but where the fuck are you?" Celia asked in a frightfully sweet voice. "I still need another four or five pieces for your show and I'd really hate to have to postpone it. Or cancel it. Call me when you get this message. I don't care what time it is. Call me. If you don't call me I will track you down and you really don't want me to do that. I can be very vicious when I need to be."

Justin knew that she was telling the truth, but he didn't have time to call Celia. She would be furious with him later and she had every right to be. But at the moment all that mattered to Justin was Brian. Finding Brian. Keeping Brian safe. Getting Brian his life back. When it was all over Justin knew that he would have plenty of time to sort out his own life and get things back in order.

The phone rang almost immediately after Justin finished listening to his messages. Justin picked up without thinking, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he folded the ticket confirmation and stuck it in his pocket.

"Justin, here."

There was a pause and then, "Hey, Justin."

"Brian!" Justin cried, gripping the phone tightly as he straightened back up. "You fucking asshole! What the fuck were you thinking? Were you even thinking?"

"I have to do this myself, Justin," Brian murmured.

Justin scrubbed his free hand over his face, sighing loudly. "No you don't, Brian. You can turn the car around and get your ass back here now. "

"Justin--"

"Don't give me any fucking excuses. I'm not going to let you do this, Brian." Justin was silent for a moment, pursing his lips. "I really don't think it's a good idea for you to go alone. Please come back."

"I'm sorry, Justin."

Before Justin could say another word the line went dead. Justin clutched the receiver tightly, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. As much as it frustrated him, Justin had expected as much from Brian. It hadn't taken as long for Justin to figure out just how stubborn Brian was. At the moment he was cursing Brian for being so stubborn.

Instead Justin allowed his anger to boil. In the taxi, on the train. And while his anger continued to grow, so too did his fear. He couldn't shake the feeling that something would happen to Brian. Everything was too out of control. Brian was probably still classified as an escaped mental patient and would probably be arrested as soon the authorities found out that he was back in Pittsburgh. Justin knew that he would probably be arrested too, but he didn't care. Being arrested would be minor compared to what Brian would have to go through if he ended up back in the psych ward.

It was surreal to be back in Pittsburgh. It had only been about six weeks since he'd left, but it felt so much longer. Finding the nearest rental agency, Justin got himself a car and drove to a nearby motel so that he could drop off his stuff and figure out where he could find Ben. Ben would know where to find Brian. Justin would have rather done it alone, but he didn't know Pittsburgh very well and he certainly didn't know where Vance's agency which was where Justin was sure Brian was headed. Getting Ben's number at the university was easy, he only hoped that Ben would be in his office.

"Dr. Bruckner speaking, how can I help you?"

"Ben!"

"Justin?"

"Ben, I really need your help," Justin said as he drove towards the university. "Look, I'm driving towards the university now--"

"You're in Pittsburgh?"

"--Yes. Where's your office? I need to see you right away."

"Justin, what's going on?"

"Ben, please."

Ben gave him the address and in under twenty minutes Justin was knocking on the professor's office door. It was a frantic knock, sharp and rapid. Justin still had his arm raised to knock when Ben pulled the door open.

"Please tell me that you've heard from Brian," Justin pleaded as Ben ushered him into his office. "The asshole left me in New York and I have no idea whether he'd still on the way or if he's already in Pittsburgh. And if he's gone after Vance already.... Goddamn it, Ben, is he always so fucking frustrating? I want to strangle him, but at the same time I'm terrified that something's happened to him and I won't see him again."

"Brian may be a stubborn asshole, but he's resourceful," Ben was quick to assure him. "He probably has a plan. We'll wanna kill him when it's over, but I don't doubt there's a plan."

Slumping down on the old couch pushed up against the wall, Justin dropped his head into his hands. "You weren't in that hospital, Ben. You didn't see.... I don't want to see Brian end up like that again. Strapped to a bed drugged out of his mind. It's frightening."

Ben had nothing to say to that. He frowned, pursing his lips as he leaned his hip against the desk. "Do you know where he's going? What he's doing?"

"Hopefully not straight to Vance," Justin sighed, leaning back and slumping into the worn cushions. "Where is Vance? Or Brian's old agency? Are they still the same building?"

"Justin, I really don't know about this," Ben said quietly, rubbing his knuckles against the corner of his jaw. "Even if Brian is going there, do you really think that you should get involved?"

"You do remember that I'm involved with this too, don't you? I did break him out of a hospital psych ward," Justin reminded the older man, on his feet once again as he spoke. "I'm probably the most involved person besides Brian. So please just tell me where I can find Vance's office so I can try and minimize the damage as much as possible."

Ben was reluctant, but he gave Justin the address that he needed, even volunteering to drive Justin when the artist admitted that he didn't know where the office was located. Not having the time to figure out how to get to the office building, Justin reluctantly took him up on the offer. As they neared the center of downtown Pittsburgh it became fairly obvious to Justin what building they were looking for.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Justin whispered as he pulled the car over two blocks away from the building that housed Vanguard. It was as close as he could get.

"Exactly what Brian Kinney does best."

Not caring whether Ben was following after him or not, Justin turned off his rental car and began navigating his way through the gathering crowd so that he could get closer to the building. Brian was in there doing God knew what and Justin couldn't decide whether he wanted to strangle or protect his lover. Because Brian was involved. There was absolutely no way he could deny that Brian was involved. Even knowing him for only six weeks Justin knew that it was exactly Brian's style. He wouldn't give Vance a chance to protect his ass and make sure that everyone would knew exactly what Vance had done.

It was completely insane.


	19. Made to be Broken

"Captain Meyer speaking."

"You're a captain now. I'm impressed," Brian smirked into his cell phone. "Mind telling me how your number ended up the address book on my phone?"

"A guy can be hopeful, can't he?"

"I'm driving from upstate New York to Pittsburgh. You have that long to tell me what the fuck you know and how it can help me."

Brian spent more than an hour listening to what Doug had to tell him. He'd noticed his old cell phone in one of the bags Justin had brought with them from Pittsburgh about a week before while searching for a clean pair of socks. All of the other names in his address book had been the same except for the one addition. Brian didn't tell Justin about it and more than once had been tempted to delete it. Some niggling thought in the back of his mind always kept him from pressing the delete button.

"Is there any way you can meet me in Pittsburgh this afternoon?" Brian asked once Doug had finished his story. "I'd like to get this all over with today."

"If they find out that I'm involved--"

"Then give me a paper trail. Something that I can use to prove that this is real. I won't use your name, but give me a way to prove that I'm not insane," Brian pleaded with the other man. A man he had met only twice that he could remember. The second time did not count as much since he had been heavily drugged at the time.

"Brian--"

Brian clutched the phone tightly, pursing his lips. "I'm desperate here, Doug. All I have is circumstantial shit. Things that have nothing to do with me, but point the way. I want Vance taken down now. I want my life back. Now please, help me."

There was a pause, Doug huffing out a deep breath. He hesitated a moment longer before agreeing to help Brian. The two men set up a place to meet in Pittsburgh later that afternoon and afterwards Brian got in touch with the other person's whose help he was going to need.

"Hello?"

"Cynthia."

"Holy shit. Brian?"

"Nice to know you haven't forgotten me," Brian smirked while listening to Cynthia let out a string of curses. "Cynthia? Are you done yet?"

"Brian?"

Rolling his eyes, Brian nodded his head. "Yes, Cynthia. It's me. I'm alive. Now focus. I need you to set some things--"

"That insane rumour I've been hearing since before Christmas is true? You're alive? How the fuck are you still alive? Your car blew up. Are you fucking made out of titanium? Beyond your dick."

Brian had to laugh at that. It was good to know that his reputation hadn't faded at all in the past three and a half year. He would have been upset if he'd been forgotten so easily after all the effort he'd put in to building up his legend.

"Look, Cynthia, I need you to set some things up for me. You have until this afternoon." 

Brian quickly listed off everything he needed. There was nothing startling about his demands. He'd asked for a lot worse when he was working for Ryder and on much shorter notice. Cynthia had come through for him each time and he didn't doubt she'd do the same now. That's why they had worked so well together for five years and how he'd made partner.

"I can't believe you're actually alive. What happened?" Cynthia asked once they had worked out roughly how long it would take Brian to get to Pittsburgh and gather what he needed from Doug. If things went according to plan everything would be in place to be the top story on the five o'clock news.

Brian smirked at the question, knowing that it was one he would be receiving a great deal over the coming months. "Get me what I need first. If you're a good girl I'll tell you before the big reveal."

From the other end of the line, Cynthia snorted in amusement. "Good to see being dead hasn't made you any less of an asshole."

"Get me what I need and there's a corner office with a view in it for you."

"Bribery will get you everywhere."

"I'd hate to have to break in a new assistant."

For the first time Brian was beginning to feel relaxed about the situation. He felt like he was in control and that he could spin it however he wanted. That he would get his life back and Vance would pay for what he had done. Brian would have preferred to make Vance disappear off the face of the earth and have him doubt his own sanity, but realistically he knew that he couldn't expect something like that. At the very least seeing Vance in jail would give him some sense of closure. Brian only hoped that Marty wasn't involved. He would rather not have to implicate his former partner. Before his San Francisco trip they'd been talking about possibly allowing Vance to only buy Marty out, Brian staying on as full partner in the new organization.

The drive seemed longer than it actually was with only the radio to distract him. Brian felt guilty for leaving Justin behind, but it was better for him to stay behind. Justin would be safer if he wasn't involved and even though he knew that the blonde was gonna follow after him, Brian hoped to have it all sorted out before his lover got to Pittsburgh. If he didn't manage it, Brian dreaded having to content with the irate blonde on top of everything else.

As arranged, Brian pulled the Blazer into the first McDonalds he came to after he got off the interstate. He didn't know which vehicle was Doug's so he could only hope that the other man had kept his word and would meet him there. Everything that Brian was planning for later in the afternoon depended on Doug showing up with proof of Vance's involvement in what had happened to him. If Doug didn't come Brian would look like a lunatic when he went to confront Vance.

Brian spotted Doug almost as soon as he entered the building. He nodded briefly in Doug's direction then went up to the counter to get himself a coffee. He didn't bother with food in part because he'd rather not eat something from McDonalds and also because he was simply too nervous at the moment to actually eat anything. He was also curious about just what Doug had that could implicate Vance.

"You definitely look better than you did the last time I saw you," Doug commented as Brian slid into the bench opposite him. The booth was in an emptier section of the restaurant, away from the counter and the kid play place.

"It's amazing what a month of leisure can do," Brian drawled as he shifted about to sit sideways on the bench. It was a habit that he had grown used to after countless meals at the Liberty Diner. "Even if it is spent in a cabin half buried by snow."

Doug smirked as he dipped a french fry into a small container of ketchup. "Interesting place to hide out. From what I've heard about you that's the last place anyone would look. Most of the search groups headed south and west. A few even ventured as far as Mexico since it's inconceivable that Brian Kinney would willingly head into snowy territory."

"I like skiing as much as the next guy, but don't count on me ever going near that much snow again willingly," Brian snorted, bringing the paper cup to his lips. "So what have you got for me, Doug?"

"You certainly waste no time."

Once again repeating his condition that nothing be linked back to him, Doug handed over a somewhat thick manila folder. Propping it against his drawn-up knees, Brian began skimming through the papers Doug had given him. More than once his head twisted over to Doug, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"I don't even wanna ask how you got this information," Brian murmured when he closed the folder. "This is all legit?"

Doug nodded his head. "Each typed word."

"Thank you," Brian said quietly, his eyes still on the folder. He nodded his head briefly before glancing at Doug briefly.

Five minutes later Brian was back in the parking lot. He had an appointment to keep that would hopefully give him back his life. Glancing back towards the building, Brian watched Doug dump the contents of his tray into the garbage and knew that he would likely never see the other man again. With a final shake of his head, he climbed into the Blazer. Brian knew that he would never be able to understand why Doug was helping him. He was long past the point in believing that their meeting three and a half years ago had been coincidence. Doug had to have known something of what would happen to him and hoped that he had simply been unable to prevent it at the time. Brian highly doubted that he had escaped from what he had just learned was a high class military detention center all on his own.

As planned, he met up with Cynthia in the underground parking lot below the building that housed Vanguard. She had given him the code to get into the lot when he'd called her earlier and was pleased to note that there was no one in his spot. He was still climbing out of the vehicle when he heard the distinctive clack of Cynthia's heels walking towards him.

She stopped when she rounded the corner of the Blazer, staring at him for several long moments. "Holy shit. It really is you."

"Of course it's me. Who the fuck else would it be?" Brian demanded as he removed his jacket, tossing it back onto the driver's seat. "You got everything ready for me?"

"The news vans will start showing in up about ten minutes. We'll meet them in the main lobby for this little press conference you have planned. Because of the size I've also put in a request for police security which should hopefully come in handy if any arrests need to be made. I also picked up a new suit for you. Your tailor still has your measurements on file. It's on account, by the way. Shoes too."

"I knew there was a reason I'd hired you," Brian smirked, shivering slightly as he buttoned up the deep red shirt Cynthia handed to him.

"Well I did learn from the best," she quipped, coyly glancing aside as Brian toed off his sneakers and dropped his jeans. "I expect to be greatly compensated for this stunt of yours. More than just the office, Brian."

"Let's depose Vance first."

Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark blue suit with faint blue pinstripes, Brian knew that he certainly looked the part. He still felt a little out of sorts, but within the next hour it would be remedied. Vance would be put in place and he would have his life back. He'd have his company, his money, his family, his son. The only thing he didn't know was how Justin would fit into it all. He cared about the blonde a great deal, loved him even, but he couldn't as Justin give up his life because Brian needed to be in Pittsburgh. His company was there and so was Gus. Brian had already missed the first three and a half years of the boy's life and wanted to stay in town at least long enough to get to know his son.

Nine minutes later Brian and Cynthia were in the elevator heading up to the lobby on the first floor. From what he remembered the secretaries in the building were notorious gossips and he knew that within minutes of his press conference Vance would know about what was going on and be down there himself.

As the elevator doors opened Brian strode forward confidently into the mass of reporters gathered just inside the building's doors. This was what he excelled at and planned on taking full advantage of the situation.

"I'm glad that you all could make it," Brian drawled, holding his arms out at his sides. "My name is Brian Kinney and as you can tell rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

Even though it had been nearly four years to the rest of the world, for Brian it had only been a few weeks since he had last given a presentation in front of a large audience. With his usual charm and charisma, Brian went through everything that he had been able to discover about his supposed death and disappearance. Vance's underhanded dealings over the years and his failed attempt to buy out Ryder, Kinney & Associates. About Vance's older brother who was very high up in the military and the over two million dollars that had appeared in the man's bank account the afternoon of Brian's supposed death as well as an equal amount that had gone missing from Vance's that same day. Brian also showed them the documents where his name appeared in correspondence with a high security detention facility.

"Marty Ryder would have been more than willing to sell the company, but I wasn't. So we offered Gardner Vance a counteroffer that would only give him half the controlling shares in the company while I retained the rest. Unfortunately, he wouldn't hear anything about it and as far as I was concerned that was it. We kept the company and Vance we assumed Vance went looking for another company to raid. Two weeks later I went to San Francisco," Brian finished enigmatically.

"Why call a press conference before seeking criminal charges?" one of the reporters questioned, her voice rising louder than the others in the chaos that had followed Brian's statement.

Brian offered up a momentary tongue in cheek smirk before responding. "Because, given everything that's happened both in the summer of 2000 and in November of last year, I don't trust the police department. I decided that it would be better to make sure everything is in the public forum so that I cannot be called a lunatic and locked up again."

"And all of these documents you've shown us are real documents?"

"Completely," Brian said with absolute certainty. "I wouldn't have arranged this little gathering if I wasn't one hundred percent certain that Gardner Vance was involved. I like to be as thorough as possible in my research as--"

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Smirk returning, Brian glanced over his shoulder to where Vance was stalking from one of the elevators. "Hello, Gardner. So glad that you could join us."

The older man stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he stared at Brian. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I would give the fine people here a lesson in underhanded business practices. This just seemed like the perfect venue seeing as how you're so well versed in the practice."

Momentarily glaring at Brian, Vance then turned his attention to the gathered reporters. "Convincing as his arguments appear to be, what he has failed to mention is that he recently spent time in a mental facility."

"We've already talked about that," Brian informed the older business man. "These fine people here are already fully aware that you were the one to sign the admission form as my 'brother.' Quite foolish, don't you think? Especially when I hand a copy of this file over to the authorities."

Grabbing hold of Brian's elbow, Vance turned them away from the news cameras. "I'm sure that we can come to some sort of an arrangement that will benefit us both. Simply give me the file and--"

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Brian snorted, tightening his grip on the folder. "You stole nearly four years of my life. Do you really think I'm going to let you get away with it?"

"I'll give you fifty percent of the shares in the company."

Wrenching his arm from Vance's hold, Brian spun back around and took a few steps back towards the crowd of reporters. "Since I can see that the police have arrived, I think that it's time we adjourned this press conference for today. Thank you all for coming."

There was an outcry of questions shouted all at once, faster than Brian could decipher them even if he had been willing to answer them. His attention was focused instead on the cops who were making their way towards him.

"Looks like you've attracted the big wigs; the one in the front is the police commissioner," Cynthia murmured in his ear.

Brian glanced over his shoulder at Vance who was dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. It boded well for Brian because it meant that Vance didn't have the man in his pocket. Gardner Vance would have been far more confident if he was certain that he would be able to beat the charges. Standing with his arms crossed his arms over his chest, Brian stood aside while two of the officers made directly for Vance, the commissioner introducing himself as such to Brian.

"I would like to apologize on behalf of my department for our failure in fully investigating your supposed death," Commissioner Metcalfe said as he shook Brian's hand. "I plan on speaking to the San Francisco department as soon as I get back to the station and sorting all of this out. Kidnapping and false imprisonment charges being what they are, I feel that I should hand that file over to a friend of mine who is in the FBI."

"I'd be happy to do just that as soon as we go to the copy place down to street," Brian agreed, handing the file over the Cynthia. "I'm not enough of a fool to give away the only copy of this file I have."

"Completely understandable."

Brian watched with no small amount of amusement as Vance was led from the building in handcuffs. He knew that Metcalfe was only attempting to placate him after the complete cock up that had been made of the investigation of his accident, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. The sooner he could get this over with, the better. Preferably with Vance behind bars.

"You fucking asshole!"

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Brian had hoped that the blonde wouldn't have made it to Pittsburgh so quickly. The longer it took Justin to get to Pittsburgh, the more time he would have had to calm down. From the sound of things Justin was far from calm at the moment.

"Hey there, Sunshine," Brian said, fake smile planted firmly in place.

"You are such an asshole," Justin growled as he came to a stop in front of Brian. Before he even had a chance to react the blonde had punched him in the jaw. "How could you think you were protecting me? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"You pack one hell of a punch for an artist," Brian grumbled, touching his fingertips to his jaw.

"Don't get cute with me, Kinney. I'm not falling for it."

Brian opened his mouth to protest only to find himself locked in a serious kiss with a very angry blonde. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he'd been forgiven, but wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd take the misplaced passion over another punch to the face.


	20. Made to be Broken

Brian wandered through the art gallery, examining the sculptures, painting and photographs that caught his attention. It was the middle of the afternoon so the small gallery was relatively empty, allowing Brian to spend as much time as he wanted with each individual piece. There was a series of black and white photographs that he had already flagged in his mind for the lobby of his agency, their stark, industrial feel working well with the interior of the newly named Kinnetic.

Three months had passed since his press conference and Brian was still dealing with lawyers. There had been enough of a consensus for Brian to be able to use the money from the sale of the office space Vanguard had occupied for him to buy the building that had once housed the Liberty Avenue Baths. Brian received no small pleasure knowing that his office and the connecting conference room had been the site of many of his conquests. The sale of the downtown office and the resulting purchase of the more secluded address had left Brian with more than enough money to renovate the old building. Better lighting, more windows near the entrance, and larger rooms were the major changes that had gone into building Kinnetic's headquarters. 

Proving that Brian was the man he claimed had been rather simple. All that was needed was a blood test. Brian's DNA was matched with his mother's and the positive results were indisputable proof that he was indeed Brian Kinney and that he hadn't lost his mind. Getting all the necessary paperwork back had proved to be more of a challenge as he was constantly being held up by bureaucratic red tape.

What had been easiest was convincing Vanguard's clients to stay with him when he took over. Even after more than three hours his reputation was still potent enough to land him several big accounts on top of that. With everything going on it had been impossible for him to do anything but hit the ground running and he had succeeded because he had Cynthia there to help him. As a reward she was his second in command, with the office and paycheck to match.

At the moment, what he didn't have was Justin. Justin had put off his own life for nearly two months and whether he'd wanted to or not, he was needed back in New York. So the day after he had held his press conference, Brian had said a temporary goodbye to the blonde. As the weeks continued, Brian was nervous about whether he'd see Justin again or not. They talked on the phone and emailed each other, but for Brian it was hardly enough.

"Can I help you, sir?" one of the gallery workers asked, appearing suddenly at Brian’s side.

Brian took the woman back to where the photographs he wanted were hung. "I would like to purchase these as well as any other similar ones you have by the same artist."

Explaining the situation to the woman, Brian was shown directly to artwork that would best suit his building. In the end Brian ended up charging several thousand dollars to his corporate credit card. All of the money was well spent in Brian's opinion. The artwork was all original and all done by local artists. The only thing he was missing by the end of the day was piece for his own office. Brian already knew the painting he wanted for his office, it was just a matter of getting a hold of it.

After arranging to have everything shipped to Kinnetic, Brian climbed back into his Jeep. It was a relatively short drive from the gallery to the studio where he was hoping to find his last painting. The last time he had seen the painting it had only just been started and couldn't even be certain that it had been completed. He hoped that it had, though.

Since it was a private studio, Brian knocked on the door, hoping that someone was inside. Brian hated wasted efforts. Everything he did was for a purpose and Brian hated it when things didn't work out according to plan. 

"Brian," Justin gasped when he opened the door.

"Hey, Justin," Brian murmured, smiling at the sight of the blonde. It had been three months since they'd seen each other and Brian had missed him more than he had expected. "Hope you're not too busy."

A second later Brian found himself with an armful of excitable artist. He soon found himself out of breath as Justin mashed his mouth to Brian's. Brian was glad to see that he wasn't the only one who'd been feeling lonely over the past three months.

"I thought you said you were busy this weekend and couldn't come up," Justin moaned against Brian's lips when lack of oxygen forced them apart.

Brian furrowed his brows. "Really? I don't remember saying that. I believe what I said was that I had some errands to run before the opening party next Wednesday."

"Exactly. No part of that tells me that you're gonna show up here," Brian accused, smacking him on the arm. "Asshole. Get in here."

Brian laughed as he was yanked bodily into the house. Justin didn't stop with merely getting Brian into the house, but dragged him towards the living room and pushed Brian down so that he was sprawled lengthwise across the couch. Brian only had enough time to lift himself onto his elbows before Justin was straddling his waist. Then he was being more thoroughly greeted by his lover who was more than eager after all the weeks they had spent apart.

"Someone's eager," Brian chuckled as Justin began tugging Brian jeans down over his hips. 

"I haven't had sex in three months. I'm fucking horny," Justin informed him, rising up so that he could remove his own t-shirt. "So get that condom I know you keep hidden somewhere on your body at all times and put it on. I want to fuck."

So Brian did just that. There was nothing slow or loving about. After three months they were both desperate, thrusting against each other and kissing sloppily. The desperation in the act was highlighted by all the fumbling. It had been a very long time since Brian could remember being so uncoordinated while having sex. Justin didn't seem to mind, though, because he was just as desperate as Brian was. Odd as it was, Brian chose not to question what was happening between him and the artist.

All he knew was that he shouldn't question it. Not when he felt so content and satisfied afterwards. They laid in a sticky, sweaty mess on the couch afterwards, arms and legs wrapped together. Even though it was late March, in upstate New York it was still quite cold so Brian pulled the blanket that was laying over the back of the couch down to cover them.

"Was fucking me one of your errands?" Justin mumbled against Brian's chest after a while.

Brian squeezed Justin about the middle, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Technically you're one of my errands, but not like that."

"Then how?"

"I want you to come back to Pittsburgh with me," Brian sighed into Justin's hair. "The opening for my company is this week and no matter where I look I can't find someone to head up my art department. So I'm here to offer you the job."

Justin rose up so quickly that Brian ended up with an elbow in his stomach. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Watch those bony elbows of yours," Brian grunted.

"Sorry," Justin apologized half-heartedly. "What did you just ask me?"

"I asked you to come to Pittsburgh to head up my art department," Brian repeated, absently rubbing the spot where Justin's elbow had struck.

"I wouldn't know what to do. I only took a few art classes at a local college. I don't even have a degree in anything," Justin protested as he shifted back so that he was sitting in the far corner of the couch. "I'm about as unqualified as a person can be for the job."

Sitting up as well, Brian shook his head. "I happen to think that you're pretty damn qualified. Your artwork is going to be all over my new offices anyway. You know what you're doing, Justin. This just means your work is going to be seen by more people."

"This is completely insane," Justin sighed, leaning back into the cushions. "You're completely insane."

"I'll have you know that my shrink says that I'm perfectly sane," Brian countered, earning him a smack to the shin. "Gus misses you."

Justin glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "That's evil, Kinney."

"You're the one who mailed him that little comic book of him as a superhero. Very well done, by the way. It's why I'm here."

Justin pursed his lips, glare lessening somewhat. "Stay the night and I'll give you my answer in the morning. But in the meantime I want figures, contract information, what my duties will be. The works. You want me working for you, you've gotta woo me."

With an absent shrug, Brian was on his feet and pitching the position to Justin with as much flare as if he were in a conference room dressed in Armani and not in Justin's living room wearing absolutely nothing. Brian was in his element. There was a reason Brian had been made partner when he was twenty-nine and he was the owner of his own company at 32. He preferred not to think about the fact that he wouldn't have his own company if Vance hadn't tried to fake his death.

"I bet you think that was impressive," Justin smirked once Brian had finished his pitch.

Brian grinned broadly. "I know it was impressive. There's a reason I do what I do."

Justin rolled his eyes at that, getting off the couch and heading towards the kitchen. "I'm ordering pizza and you're gonna eat it and not complain."

Once Justin had ordered their dinner, Brian placed a call back to Pittsburgh to let Lindsay know he was all right. She had been nervous about him heading off on his own and made him promise to call him periodically so that she could keep track of him. He'd tried to tell her that there was nothing to worry about with Vance and his brother both in jail, but it hadn't stopped her from calling him three times on the drive up.

For the first month after his return to Pittsburgh, Brian had lived with Lindsay, Melanie and Gus, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible. That first week Gus had slept with Brian every night, wanting to make sure that his Dadda didn't disappear during the night. And chaotic as that first month had been, Brian was glad for the bit of domesticity he was able to come home to each night. When he'd bought his own loft, Brian had made sure that it had plenty of room for Gus. The little boy had his own bedroom and lots of floor space to play with his toys. The furniture was all kid-proof and there was a large park across the street. He and Lindsay had decided not to draw-up an official visitation schedule, leaving it dependent on their own schedules and Gus' wants. Given that he'd missed nearly four years of his son's life, Lindsay and Melanie didn't protest too much when Gus opted to spend most weekends with his dad.

"Come here, I want to show you something," Justin said as he handed Brian a beer.

Taking the beer, Brian followed the blonde into the room that served as his studio. The room looked just as it had the last time he was there. Canvases lined the walls, some painted on, others still blank; paintbrushes, glass jars, charcoals, and other supplies were scattered about available flat surfaces; and there were sketches and photographs taped to the windowed walls, others tacked to the solid wall that connected the room to the rest of the house. Off in one corner, protected from spills underneath a shelf was a covered painting, obviously finished. Justin immediately went to that canvas, uncovering the painting with a tug to the cloth draped over it.

"I finished this about two weeks after I got back," Justin explained, stepping aside so that Brian could see the painting. "I was going to ship it to you, but figured that I'd save it till we saw each other again.... I just didn't think it would be so long."

"Neither did I," Brian whispered, stepping closer so that he could get a better view of the painting.

It was the one Justin had started when they had first met: Brian standing alone in a ruined landscape. His posture had been angled in such a way that his face was hidden, but the body was most definitely Brian's. Their more than healthy sex life the month they'd been in hiding had given Justin a very intimate knowledge of his body. The landscape was far more sinister than Brian remembered, the buildings darker, more decayed. There was also the shattered outline of a hospital that hadn't been there before they'd gone to Pittsburgh.

"It's amazing," Brian murmured, tearing his gaze from the painting to look over at Justin. "I was hoping that you'd have this finished. I wanted to see it and was hoping that I could persuade you to sell it to me."

Justin shook his head immediately, rolling his eyes. "Like I would make you pay for it. It's a present. My friend Daphne's dubbed it 'Greek God in Blue Jeans.' Thought you'd get a kick out of that."

"I love this woman already," Brian chuckled, stepping closer to the blonde so that he could take him in his arms. The younger man jumped slightly as the beer Brian was holding brushed his bare stomach then retaliated by touching his own beer to Brian's thigh. Brian cursed at the sudden chill and squeezed Justin tightly. "I love this painting. You too."

"Love you too," Justin sighed, leaning back against Brian's chest. "I've missed you. It was weird going back to my normal life after everything that happened."

Brian pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Weird is one way to describe it. I'm still trying to get used to all of it."

It would be a long time before Brian was able to be around Ben and Michael and not feel a sense of betrayal. Rationally he knew that Ben had thought he was dead when he chose to move on, but Brian still had a hard time accepting it at times. He had loved Ben and had been ready to start a life with him. Even if Justin hadn't been a factor, Brian wouldn't have tried to win the professor back. Ben and Michael had a foster son. Hunter was an annoying brat of a teenager, but Brian wouldn't be the one to break up the family.

It was only when the delivery guy came with the pizza that the two of them got dressed. Brian was satisfied with only wearing his jeans, but Justin covered himself as completely as he had when Brian had first arrived. The artist certainly didn't seem to appreciate Brian's hand down the back of his jeans while he paid for the pizza, stomping on Brian's foot in retribution since his hands were otherwise occupied.

"You are such an ass!" Justin shouted in mock outrage once the door was shut on the delivery guy. He was laughing too hard for Brian to even consider taking him seriously. "Why didn't you just fuck me in front of him?"

Taking the pizza box from Justin, Brian leaned in and pressed a wet, smacking kiss to the side of his throat. "Too obvious, Sunshine. I prefer subtly."

"Because having your hand down my pants is so subtle," he snorted, heading straight for the fridge and another round of beers.

"Your pants are looking a bit uncomfortable," Brian laughed outright.

"You're not building a good case for yourself if you really want me to accept the job."

Brian did his best to appear contrite which got Justin laughing as well. It was a relaxing night. For the first time in months Brian didn't have any obligations or any legal documents to read over and sign. Even on the nights he had Gus, Brian still spent hours trying to get the legal work of his return from the dead in order once the little boy went to bed. For his trip to upstate New York Brian had purposely left everything behind in Pittsburgh, wanting to enjoy his time with Justin.

By the end of the night both men were blissfully drunk. They were giggling, singing, and dancing to some techno music that Brian would have realized he hated if he were sober. Drunk he only cared about grinding against the smaller man and getting him out of his clothes.

For their second round of sex, the two managed to make it to Justin's bedroom before lust took control. And, unlike their last coupling, it was a much more slow and languid act. One that they both immediately passed out from afterwards.

Brian's body felt almost leaden when he awoke the next morning. Justin was still passed out, snoring quietly against his shoulder. They were mashed together in a tangled mess, Justin lying half on top of him in pretty much the same position Brian called falling asleep in. He lay there silently, studying Justin's features as the blonde continued to sleep unawares.

"Stop staring at me," Justin grumbled a few minutes later, his features crinkling briefly. He yawned, turning his face into Brian's shoulder to mask the sight, before snuggling up once again. "It's too early."

Glancing towards the bedside clock, Brian groaned and closed his eyes in agreement. "It is too fucking early. It's not even seven."

"Then stop talking and go to sleep."

He did just that and the next time he woke up it was a lot closer to noon. He also found himself alone in the bedroom. Rolling himself out of the bed, Brian yawned and wandered through the house in search of his errant lover. He had hoped that Justin would still be in bed when he woke up so that they could indulge in some early morning sex, a particular favourite of Brian's.

Following the smell of coffee, Brian found Justin in the kitchen making omelets. The younger man's hair was a rumpled mess, the black sweatpants he was wearing hanging low on his hips. Brian thought he looked fucking gorgeous and immediately crossed over, winding his arms around Justin's torso.

"Morning again," Brian greeted, nuzzling just behind Justin's right ear.

Justin turned his head, catching Brian's lips in a quick kiss. "I was going to wake you up in a few minutes for breakfast. Onions, mushrooms and tomatoes, right?"

Nodding his head, Brian burrowed his face in the crook of Justin's shoulder, not quite ready to be awake yet. The bed had been very comfortable and warm even after it had cooled a bit with Justin's absence. In the short time they'd shared a bed, Brian had learned quickly that Justin was his own furnace when asleep. They'd spent many days in that cabin lazing in bed, sometimes only going as far as the couch where they ended up wrapped in afghans, reading, watching movies, or simply talking. Brian had hoped that they would spend much of that day in bed as well, but so far his desire had been thwarted.

"How fancy is this party of yours?" Justin asked, shifting about to turn off the stove and move the pan off the burner. "Will I need to bring a suit with me to Pittsburgh?"

Brian released a huge sigh, hugging Justin tightly. "It's not black tie and you're the head of my art department so you're allowed to take some artistic liberties with your wardrobe."

"I'm not going naked," Justin deadpanned before he turned about in Brian's arms.

"Dash a guy's hope, why don't you," Brian mumbled, stepping away from Justin in order to pass him the empty plate on the counter.

Snorting, Justin scooped the omelet onto the plate then handed it back to Brian. "You're the owner of the company, you be the exhibitionist. You're already dressed for the part."

Brian only grinned broadly. "I'm waiting for you to take advantage of the situation."

"Go put some pants on."

Smile still in place, Brian bowed dramatically. He caught Justin's eye when he straightened and winked before heading back towards the bedroom and his jeans. The smile faded as soon as he was in the hallway he allowed the air to escape his lungs in a huff, his lips pushed outwards with the expulsion of air. He'd been worried that Justin wouldn't accept the offer and that he'd end up going back to Pittsburgh with only a few pieces of art instead of an artist.

After fastening his jeans, Brian absently ran his fingertips over the tattoo on his hip. M4B 9A5 KL2. According to the files Doug had given him it was a tracking number much like the numbers prisoners were given in jail. Brian had decided against having the tattoo removed for reasons that he still couldn't fully rationalize. He might eventually change his mind, but for the moment he had no intentions of getting it removed.

With a final shake of his head, Brian left the bedroom. He and Justin had a lot of plans to make if they were going to get Justin moved to Pittsburgh as soon as possible because Brian had no intentions of going home alone.


End file.
